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luveline · 5 months

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Hi babe! Not sure how you feel about writing ab parents so feel free to ignore, but had an idea for kbd au if Steve’s parents tried to contact him/get into their lives and he’s all like stay away from my kids

kisses before dinner —steve has a tense relationship with his parents. mom!reader, 1.5k

The girls haven't seen their grandparents for… a while.

Steve's dad always has something to say about his life. How he's thrown everything away being a stay at home dad, or how idiotic it was to stay with you. The latter was enough for Steve to want to cut contact initially, but you convinced him not to do it on your behalf.

Steve, pretty much everyone we knew thought I was baby trapping you, you'd said.

Well, he'd said, attempting to lighten the mood, little do they know I baby trapped you.

Damn. Wanna do it again?

So it was funny. His parents didn't like you but they hardly liked him, he didn't mind —he was so fucking angry because who the fuck did they think they were, how could they look at you and not love you, you, in what world was it possible?— and he put up with their passive aggressive Christmas cards and their sparing visits, but then his mom took it too far.

He can remember it word for word. “Beth, honey,” his mom had said, her nose stuck in its permanent wrinkle, “why are you eating it like that? What do your friends at school think?”

“Mom, don't,” Steve had butt in. Beth didn't even go to school at that point.

“She's such a weird kid,” she said, shaking her head.

Some could argue it was fond or that she didn't mean anything by it, Bethie is very unique sometimes, but Beth turned her face to her dad with crestfallen eyes, as heartbroken as Steve had ever seen her before, and asked, “I'm weird?”

Steve doesn't remember the last time he spoke to his mom. A year ago at least.

He does miss her. But he doesn't really know her, never has, and he'd choose Beth over her without a thought. It would take a hundredth of a millisecond to decide.

That's why seeing her is a shock. He's going to see her, they live in the same town —you bumped into her a few weeks ago and had to give her the rundown. Everyone's okay. Yeah, we had another baby, she's doing great.

Steve had blown up at her. The girls had never seen him that angry in their lives and they haven't seen it since, and the gap is impassable.

Or so he thinks.

“Steve!” He tenses up. “Steve, honey!”

He can't decide what to do. He can't exactly run away; Bethie and Dove sit knee to knee in the shopping cart, Avery has her hand in his pocket, and Wren is strapped to his chest. Running would leave at least one girl behind, and where would he go? The frozen food aisle?

“Oh, it's grandma,” Avery says. “She looks… old.”

“She is old,” he says, turning reluctantly on the spot to watch his mother rush past a stack of cans of carrots. “She's ancient.”

“Steve, baby.” His mom stops in front of him, more flustered than he knew she could get back, struggling to maintain a sense of casualness. “How are you? Girls? It's been so long.”

Steve doesn't have an inkling of an idea of what to say. He's not mad anymore, but he knows she'll never change, and he knows that your family is a hundred times happier without worrying what grandma and grandpa think of you. “We're perfect,” he says.

“And this is baby Wren?”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah, this is Wren.”

She's only three months old but she has a good weight to her, and she's brilliantly healthy. She blinks at the woman in front of her without recognition, her dark lashes a thick hedging. She's a beautiful baby.

“She looks like you again, Steve.”

“Yeah, my girl's good at having babies, but she hasn't mastered the mixing process,” he jokes without thinking. Love for you falls off the tongue.

His mother has the sense to make herself laugh. “Where is Y/N?” she asks.

“Mom went back to get milk!” Avery says.

“Yeah? And how are you, sweetie?”

Steve clears his throat. He understands what she's trying to do, but he remembers Beth's crushed face and he can't abide this shit again. I let you let me believe I wasn't good enough, he'd said, he'd shouted, his voice hoarse with it as you pulled him back by the arm, but I will not let you do it to them. It's not happening, mom, I won't let it.

“Steven…”

“Mom, we have to get going.”

“I said I was sorry,” she says.

“But you weren't.”

“Steve–” She doesn't look a thing like her son beside the similar way they begin to cry, that frown, “Please, I know I'm not perfect, we don't have to pretend I've– I'll hold my tongue. I just want to see my grandkids. I've never even held her.”

Steve covers the back of Wren's head with his hand, her baby hair soft as down. The girls are being remarkably quiet, beside Dove, who's whispering, “Who is that?” to Bethie in her clumsy toddler drawl.

“That's gran'ma,” she whispers back.

Steve's mom is, at the end of the day, their grandma. And she sucks and she doesn't deserve anymore chances, and the girls are better off without her for the majority, but…

Steve screws his eyes shut. Don't make me regret this, he thinks.

“I just want to speak to them,” she says.

“Alright,” he says quietly, covering Wren's ear. “Alright, mom, fine, but this is it. This is your chance. If you ever upset or insult one of my kids again, we're done. We will never, ever speak again. You won't see them, and you won't see me. I'm serious.”

“I'm sorry,” she says again.

“Fine.” He pulls the strap off of Wren's harness and shushes her gently as she protests, lifting her out of his arms into his mom's. She doesn't have time to decide if she's ready. This is how it's going to be. “Her head.”

“I know how to hold a baby,” she says.

You come around the aisle slowly, a little wince to your step, some residual tightness in your hips as you recover postpartum, but the frown you wear slips into surprise. “Terri?”

You save Steve and take the reins, suffering a conversation on your pregnancy, birth, and Wren's first weeks of life as Steve takes a breath. His heart races, adrenaline and a sticky, icky feeling in his chest as he watches his mom. He doesn't know if he's doing the right thing. His arms ache to steal Wren back.

It ends in an invitation for dinner. Whenever you're free, whatever you want, Steve's mom offers.

He's glad to see the back of her.

You put the milk carton in the cart and touch his elbow. “You okay?” He hums. Your hand moves up to his face, cupping his cheek. “She makes you so mad, sweetheart. Do you need a moment?”

“I think I'm pissed because…” He glances down at Wren, who's happier now she's in familiar hands. “I didn't realise she was a shitty mom. I knew we didn't get along, the same with my dad, but I didn't know…” He sighs.

“It's okay,” you say, giving him a gentle squeeze before Dove demands you pick her up. You do it unthinkingly, and that's why he's mad.

“I know what a good mother looks like,” he says. “I know how hard it is. And I know she didn't even try.”

You're all sympathy, looking like you wanna wrap him up in a cuddle in the middle of the grocery store. “You deserved better. It makes me angry too.”

“Are we going to dinner?” Beth asks.

“What, with grandma?” Avery asks.

“Not right now,” Steve says.

“Good,” Dove says decidedly, wrapping her arms around your neck to hug you, squishing your cheeks together. “Cocoa?”

“Cocoa? You want hot cocoa?” you ask, pleased.

It breaks his heart thinking about himself as a kid. He knows there weren't any moments like this, no soft touches or sweet treats that weren't begged for. You don't even think about saying no.

“And marshmallows,” you croon, rubbing the little space between her shoulders. “And we'll have to get a cinnamon roll too, for your sister. How does that sound, Beth?”

Beth doesn't like hot cocoa but she loves cinnamon rolls, and she nods her head exuberantly. As quick as that, the girls forget their grandma's interruption, and Steve tries his best to put it out of his mind. Family is messy, and it's harder now he has to make decisions for all of them, but he has you. His support beam, his sweetheart, you put Dove on your hip and sew your arm loosely through his. Tonight he'll talk your ear off about things you know already. You'll listen without complaint, stroking his hair back from his forehead if you have a free hand. His family growing up wasn't worth calling a family half the time, just three people connected by blood and a shared house, but the family he has today takes the cake. There's no competition.

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thatfreshi · 8 months

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OKAY OKAY LET ME COOK TAV HAS AN ABUSIVE EX LOVER AND ASTARION AND TAV RUN INTO THEM

We're all just trying to cook out here, let us cook!

TW - run-in with abusive ex, bf and ex get into a fight

Recommended Song: I Didn't Change My Number - Billie Eilish

Evening walks, humidity in the air from the day's rain, hands intertwined. You can't ask for much more. While you and Astarion enjoy a good party-filled night, it's nice to simply observe the bustle of dusk, lovers just now finding each other in alleyways, ridiculous drunken fights. It's fun, making little comments about the surrounding chaos, Astarion mostly just making fun of people's outfits.

"I mean really, I have never seen such a gaudy scarf in my life, and I've lived for almost three hundred years!"

"Yes, I remember."

"I'm just saying, truly a bad scarf."

You cling to him, as you usually do. The streets of Baldur's Gate make you nervous, so many uncertainties, especially one man. You never told Astarion about your past lover, not wanting to burden him with all of that. After all, you have no idea if he still lives in the city, but it still makes your skin crawl, knowing he's out there.

"Are you alright my sweet?"

He noticed you had slowed your steps, zoning out.

"Of course."

You smile, hiding the thoughts quite well. Eventually, the two of you make it to a quieter part of town, and you both lean against a stone building, taking in the sights of the stars. As people silently pass by, a figure makes their way towards you from the street.

"Well, if it isn't Tav? How are you old friend?"

Goosebumps, chills all across your skin. Your ex, a half-drow, eyes a burning purple. You stay silent, and Astarion simply watches the situation play out.

"Who's this?"

His gaze moves to Astarion. You wrap yourself around your lover's arm, squeezing him tight.

"Tav, would you like to go?"

Practically ignoring the drow, he turns to you, trying to deal with your fingers digging into his skin. You nod.

"Now hold on, I just wanted to say hi! Tav and I, we have a past together, and it just so happens I haven't seen them in a long time."

A grin grows across his face, disgustingly intrigued by your current circumstances.

"Yeah... hi."

You don't make eye contact, simply agreeing. Not liking the way things are progressing, Astarion goes to grab for the dagger under his coat, keeping his hand on the handle.

"Oh, so your new lover thinks he's so scary, huh? I'm sure you've told him all about me, right?"

"Aster, let's just go, please."

Your voice is practically a whisper at this point.

"Hold on darling, it's okay. I've got you."

He steps between you and the drow.

"Unless you want to be splayed all over the cobblestones, I'd suggest you move along now."

The drow steps to him.

"Splayed? Are you sure about that pretty boy?"

You didn't remember just how tall he was, making Astarion look tiny.

"Astarion!"

You plead, scared that he's bit off more than he can chew.

"Aw, scared for the pretty elf are you? Seems things haven't changed, you're still just a fearful mouse, prey."

He's said too much now, and the vampire pulls his dagger, meeting the drow's knife. While he's distracted trying to hold off Astarion's blade, the second dagger comes out, piercing right through the drow's stomach. He got him good, knowing right where to stab that would make him bleed profusely, but not kill him, not if he was quick. Your ex cries out in pain, he wasn't expecting the second blade. Astarion pulls him in by the collar.

"I never want to see you in this city again, understand?"

Still wheezing in shock, the drow nods, clutching at his stomach. Astarion smiles, content with his work.

"Good. Now, I would get someone to patch that up soon, lest you bleed out in the dark somewhere."

With that, he scurries off into the darkness, and you realize a few people were staring at the spectacle.

"Apologies, nothing to see here!"

Astarion waves off the strangers, and turns back to you.

"Are you alright my dear?"

You're still in shock, not expecting to see him here, now. You nod, wrapping yourself around his arm again.

"It's okay my love, it's over."

You mumble, lying against his arm.

"I know, I just-"

"Shhh, hush now. Let's go home, alright?"

You nod, weeping from the fear that still hasn't dissipated. He wipes away your tears, and you try to smile at him.

"Thank you."

"Of course my sweet, anything for you, always."

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #comfort

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wireman-au · 9 months

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Your name is Impulse. You are currently standing outside the seemingly-abandoned split-level family home that belongs to your good friend Tango. You have the keys to the house; Tango gave them to you years ago. He said that in emergencies, you are allowed to go into his house whenever you want. You think it's an emergency. Skizzleman thinks you need some sleep. You think you need the police to listen to you, first.

Here are some other facts you know:

The first seventy-two hours of a missing persons case are the most important.

You haven't slept for nearly thirty of those hours.

Tango wouldn't just skip out on one of your board game nights, not even for something important at work.

The police say Tango often goes out of town without telling anyone for long stretches of a time; it comes with his classified job.

He's always told you, though.

"I really don't think this is a good idea, buddy," Skizz says, nervously looking around the front yard as you jiggle the key in the lock. He's come with you, because he's a good friend, and also a bit of a pushover. Because you're also a good friend, you have not told him that it's a pushover thing to do, coming with you to break into Tango's house if he thinks it's a bad idea, but hey, you aren't going to stop him, now are you?

"Relax. He said we could come in for emergencies," you say, jiggling the key again with annoyance. If Tango's changed his locks, you're going to be tempted to break a window.

"I mean, you think Tango's missing, right?" Skizz says.

"Know," you correct.

"Know," agrees Skizz, although you're pretty sure he's just humoring you. It's hard to tell, on account of having not slept in the past day. "It's just, you know, if he's missing, and the police investigate, if we've broken in recently it won't look good."

"I mean, I wouldn't have to do this if they'd just listen to me!" you say. The door finally opens. You stumble inside. Oh, Tango just hadn't fixed the pin in the lock that liked to get stuck. No changed locks. Good.

"Dude, you know I'm with you, one hundred percent, but I think if you just sleep for a moment--"

"I don't have time to take a nap right now!" you say, maybe a bit meaner than you meant to. In your defense, you haven't slept.

You walk into Tango's house. It largely looks normal. Suspicious; Tango's house never looks normal. As you look around for things that might be hidden, you consider additional facts you know:

Tango missed board game night yesterday, but you haven't seen him for at least two days before that.

You live two neighborhoods over; the number of times you run into each other at the grocery store is immense.

You've never liked his job.

The police said not to worry; Tango is an adult.

The first seventy-two hours of a missing persons case are the most important.

"I know, I know," Skizz says, before pausing. "Huh. Where's all his gizmos?"

"Right?" you say. "He normally has so much weird stuff--ow!"

Skizz rushes over to you. "You good?"

"Yeah just--my head hurts."

"Migraines are a symptom of--"

"I know!"

You stand in Tango's weirdly empty living room. You breathe. You try to deal with the sudden wave of dizziness that's overcome you. You breathe. It starts to fade. Your head still hurts.

"Anyway," you say. "We don't have infinite time. Now, if I were Tango, where would I hide proof I'd been kidnapped or murdered or something?"

"Dude. Don't suggest murder already," mutters Skizz, but, loyally, he starts to look around with you. You're really lucky, having good friends like that who can actually sleep.

Another spike of pain runs through your head.

[CONNECTION GRANTED.]

The sooner you can figure this all out, the better.

#wireman au #FILE #SUBJECT: impulse #hermitcraft #impulsesv #skizzleman

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tomorrowillbeyou · 10 days

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Thursday 2005 demos

These are some early demos for A City by the Light Divided which were stolen from the band and leaked in September 2005. I haven't seen anyone post about them so I thought I would myself. Below are lyrics and some extra context. I have tried to transcribe the lyrics as best I can but I have pretty bad auditory processing disorder so there will inevitably be some errors. If you spot a mistake, let me know and I will edit the post. The formatting and details of the lyrics are mostly based on the CD booklet.

Blog post

After the demos were leaked, Geoff made this blog post on the Thursday website on September 21 2005:

Hey friends- SO… we see that the early demos we did for the record have FINALLY leaked. In this day and age anything and everything that passes through a computer eventually ends up being available to everyone at the click of a button. Many of you know that Thursday is one of the few bands that actually supports file sharing!!! We love the fact that music is available to everyone whenever they need it. We have always told our friends and 'fans' that they should download any of our albums that they can't afford or can't find in stores. These demos, however, weren't ready for anyone to hear. These songs have all changed substantially since those demos and will probably change between now and the recording. Just to help you guys understand these demos, here's a user's guide: 1. most of these songs don't have names because the lyrics are still being written… a song only really becomes a song for us when we figure out EXACTLY what it's about. 2. One of these songs is actually the reincarnated out-take of a song that we cut from war all the time. 3. Andrew had just joined the band as a full fledged member when we recorded these and his keyboard parts were still sketchy at best. 4. There is one song, however, that is much closer to finished than the other's. It's called "At This Velocity" and it's about a crash landing in an airplane on the other side of the world. This song was started when we were in Australia on tour with the Flaming Lips, the Mars Volta and Poison the Well. The first line of the song is, "We were safe, Now we're paralyzed, Suspended in flight…" We hope you enjoy it. On a related and timely note, we are very excited to announce that we will be heading into the studio with Dave Fridmann at the beginning of October to start on our new album. His work with the Flaming Lips, Weezer, Mogwai and Sleater Kinney has produced some of the finest albums of the last ten years. Dave is one of the few modern producers really pushing the medium and he's one of the nicest guys in the business. We started preproduction on the sixteen songs we've written. In the short amount of time we've been working with Dave he's already pushing us to new musical and emotional ground. Anyway, thank you all for the love that you have always shown us. These demos aren't really a good indication so try not to listen to them too much (we don't want you to get used to them this way!!!). We're just happy that all the really great stuff on this album is still a secret!!! Keep checking the website for updates and tidbits. thanks and love, Geoff (and all the Thursday boys)

1 - At This Velocity - Lyrics

We were safe Now we're paralyzed Suspended in flight At this speed it makes no difference Where I start and where you end Or if you sit in an emergency aisle.

We could be dead Complete the equation: Our names are X and N We have no value In these calculations: We're placed on a plane, Pointed straight down, Traveling at five hundred feet per second, Five thousand feet from the ground -- how long will it take us to hit? How fast will we start the disintegration? No time left - just keep moving No time left - just keep moving How fast will it take us to hit? How long till we start the disintegration?

We could be safe here, forever, Floating in the clean blue air. Somewhere between the sun that gives us light and the ground that puts it out. And we'll kneel in the aisles Press our hands together, close our eyes, speak these words so softly into the black box And it goes: "Mother, father, can you hear this? I want to thank you for all the sweetness. I'm not coming home, we're never coming home."

2 - Telegraph Avenue Kiss - Lyrics

She's the song that you tried to sing And the note that you couldn't hit So you locked her up in a music box Turned the key on all of us She spins silver strings in the dark With metal teeth that ring in her heart When the cover drops The world just fades away, away, away From her, waiting, waiting, waiting for her to say: It doesn't matter what you say, Doesn't matter what you think you mean, You know our love's not unconditional.

A book of matches and a cigarette A love note that you never sent You can fold it up but you won't forget You can strike a match but it still might not light Now I'm the one that's stuck inside the silver cage, The bird that can't fly away, clip its wings if it sings Of the way, the way, the way that it hurt Waiting, waiting, waiting for her to say: It doesn't matter what you say, Doesn't matter what you think you mean, You know our love's not unconditional. Doesn't matter what you say, Doesn't matter what you think you mean, You know our love's not unconditional.

The music box is open It's spinning with the room If you're the record playing, I'm the needle in the groove. Listen to our song:

You're in my heart, In my hands In my lungs.

We move like a carousel Streak lights and mirrors in our eyes It's time to let this go Can't stop spinning Around, around, around, around, around, around, around, around, around, around, around You know our love's not unconditional Unconditional Unconditional You know our love's not unconditional.

3 - The Other Side of the Crash / Over and Out (Of Control) - Lyrics

Note: This contains a section from Panic On The Streets Of Health Care City, the "reincarnated out-take" mentioned in the blog post. Panic later appeared on Kill The House Lights.

The lights go down, outside (before our cars collide) The city silhouettes itself (in forty shades of fire) Do you know where these lies are leading? I'll meet you there. I'm covering up my eyes Before they cover up your eyes And wrap your body all in white, And we awake in the light of all the lies This can't be happening Sorry, someone made it.

We wake up Covered in the marks of all these razors Racing up our veins We'll live and learn to love again Open up your eyes and we'll be safe again From the razor's edge.

And the hospital ward sleeps Through the surgery Hiding needles in the drawer (for emergency) While upstairs they sleep In maternity Fever and the pitch. It's a brand new day, Just to be awake, This is how it feels To live and learn to love again Open up your eyes and we'll be safe away From the razor's edge.

The I.V. drips, the days drag on The anesthetic's not wearing off Adjust the light switch in the hall Someone has left it on, And maybe the x-ray screen keeps it from getting dark The bulb burns out when it gets too hot Keep crashing this car (over and over) Keep crashing this car (over and over) Keep crashing this car (over and over) I can't keep crashing this car Still it spins out of control So hold me close or I might disappear this time Out of control We fight currents in the water When we can't let go of the shore. We've lost control.

4 - Autumn Leaves Revisited - Lyrics

The leaves will fall and so will you When you do, bury me under them too Seconds pass, we'll make it through Eventually we all go home It won't be long It won't be long

I live with a girl who’s been waiting Seven months left till they bring home the baby He swore he was paying for school They shipped him over. Now he scatters on the front lines He swore he would follow his conscience But done the wrong way follows his orders instead. When he shoots, he sings this song But he doesn’t know that she’s been singing it, too. It won't be long It won't be long Until they find a way home

We walk along the wire tied between horizons You close your eyes like it's nothing at all Throughout the rise and fall, everything, everything Changes, I will be here when you die

Did you hear the trumpets play the day your father died? Did the violins swell those circles under your eyes? Did you play the part straight like a march? Or get lost in the beat, thinking and feeling… Did the drums in the streets make the people dance? Or fall to their knees from the sound? Knock the leaves from the trees, and they fell from the branch? They looked beautiful As they hung in the air Spinning around Did you float in the air? Spinning around?

There must be somewhere that cigarettes burn through the night And the leaves don't abandon their trees to the light Where the sky's always clear and the summer never ends… Won't you take me there?

The leaves will fall and so will you When you do, bury me under them too Seconds pass, we'll make it through Eventually we all are going home

5 - Untitled - Lyrics

Note - this didn't end up on ACBTLD, but did make it onto Common Existence as Last Call.

The center cannot hold, the side collapses Full of broken words, sing the song inside the dark arcade Color me in city greens The streets unwinding, spitting flames Cars around the arteries We scream and swerve and fall apart.

Everything we love, it falls apart, And the architect abandons us.

I'll save us from the sky until a feeling burns, you try It plants a seed of fire that flowers in the corner of your eye Circular breathing We'll keep them always moving Heart attack efficiency, Erase the figure as it falls.

Everything we love, it falls apart, And the architect abandons us.

The city shakes like tired hands The light divides what darkness mends Our bodies echo in our plans.

Everything is falling apart.

The wedding starts The guests appear The church bells ringing endlessly The bride and groom are hand in hand And everything goes as it's planned: The parents smile, The priest chokes up, The organ plays "Amazing Grace" And underneath the thin white veil

Everything is falling apart.

And the people sing: La la la la, da da da…

The city shakes like tired hands The light divides what darkness mends Our bodies echo in our plans.

Everything is falling apart.

#thursday band #a city by the light divided #oh god i hope i didnt fuck anything up ive read this over like 6 times now

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zuko-always-lies · 7 days

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Azula's Strong Emotional Empathy Skills

Often times, people assume that Azula is bad at empathy, or at least emotional empathy. However, I would dispute that, and argue that her compassionate empathy skills in particular are actually extremely strong and off the chart, at least when it involves someone she cares about.

ATLA gives several examples of Azula showing off her empathy skills. The first comes in "The Crossroads of Destiny":

Azula: We've done it, Zuko. It's taken a hundred years, but the Fire Nation has conquered Ba Sing Se. Zuko: I betrayed Uncle. Azula: No, he betrayed you. [She stands up from the throne.] Zuko, when you return home, Father will welcome you as a war hero. Zuko: But I don't have the Avatar. What if Father doesn't restore my honor? Azula: He doesn't need to, Zuko. [She puts a hand on Zuko's shoulder.] Today, you restored your own honor.

She notices Zuko is uneasy, and does a pretty good, if not entirely successful job trying to reassure him and make him feel better.

Next we come to "The Awakening":

[Meanwhile, back at the Fire Nation Capital, Zuko feeds turtle ducks in a lake with some bread. Azula joins him.] Azula: You seem so downcast. Has Mai gotten to you already? Though actually, Mai has been in a strangely good mood lately. Zuko: I haven't seen Dad yet. I haven't seen him in three years, since I was banished. Azula: So what? Zuko: So, I didn't capture the Avatar. Azula: Who cares? The Avatar is dead … [Zuko looks away.] unless you think he somehow miraculously survived.

It's easy to miss out on this with where the scene ends up going, but what's actually the inciting reason for the scene to happen in the first place is that Azula knows Zuko is out of sorts, and wants to reassure him. She knows exactly where he is likely to go when he's sad or anxious, the turtleduck ponds which reminds him of Ursa, and easily finds him there. However, in her attempts to reassure him, she begins to suspect that he's hiding something from her, and the scene gets derailed.

Next up is "The Beach":

Zuko: [Cut to closer view of Zuko and Mai. Angrily.] Doing nothing is a waste of time. [Rises from his seat next to Mai.] We're being sent away on a forced vacation. [Walks over and grips the railing of the boat.] I feel like a child. Azula: [Frontal view.] Lighten up. So Dad wants to meet with his advisors alone, without anyone else around. Don't take it personally.

Azula instantly tries to reassure Zuko here, although she's less skillful about it than in some other cases.

Next up is the famous "Azula apologizes to Ty Lee" scene. As I've argued elsewhere, Azula is very skillful in comforting Ty Lee there. She knows exactly what she needs to say and do to make Ty Lee feel better.

Then, after Zuko gets kicked out of the party, we get this scene

Azula: I thought I'd find you here. Zuko: [Side-view.] Those summers we spent here seem so long ago. So much has changed. Azula: Come down to the beach with me. Come on. This place is depressing.

Azula's empathy is really impressive here. She apparently not only realized that Zuko would end up in a bad funk and cared enough to do something about it, but she also knew exactly where he would go in his depressed emotional state.

We then have the famous "fireside" scene. Azula isn't always the nicest person here, but her ability to understand the emotions of others is on full display:

Zuko: [Turning around.] For so long I thought that if my dad accepted me, I'd be happy. I'm back home now, my dad talks to me. Ha! He even thinks I'm a hero. [Close-up of Azula, who smiles.] Everything should be perfect, right? [Aerial view of campsite.] I should be happy now, but I'm not. [Turning back to the others.] I'm angrier than ever and I don't know why!

Azula:[Frontal view.] There's a simple question you need to answer, then. Who are you angry at? Zuko: [Close-up.] No one. I'm just angry. Mai [Side-view of the three girls.] Yeah, who are you angry at, Zuko? Zuko: [Close-up.] Everyone. I don't know. [Becoming frustrated.] Azula: [Frontal view.] Is it Dad? Zuko: [Close-up.] No, no. Ty Lee: [Frontal view.] Your uncle? Azula: Me? Zuko: [Close-up.] No, no, n-no, no! Mai: [Close-up.] Then who? Who are you angry at? Azula: [Camera pans left, past Ty Lee, to Azula.] Answer the question, Zuko. Ty Lee: [Close-up.] Talk to us. Mai: [Extreme close-up.] Come on, answer the question. Azula: Come on, answer it.

Finally, we have this scene from Nightmares and Daydreams:

Azula: Hello, Zuzu. If you've come for a royal hair-combing, I'm afraid you'll have to wait. Zuko: So I guess there's a big war meeting coming up, huh? And apparently I'm not welcome there. Azula: What do you mean? Of course you're welcome there! Zuko: Oh, yeah?! I guess that's why no one bothered to tell me about it! Azula: Oh, Zuko. Don't be so dramatic. I'm certain Dad wants you there. You probably just weren't invited because it's so obvious you're supposed to be there. Zuko: Well, were you invited? Azula: Of course! I'm the princess. Zuko: And I'm the prince! Azula: Exactly, so stop acting like a paranoid child! Just go to the meeting. Zuko: Forget it! I'm not going!

Although Azula instantly moves to try to comfort Zuko, this is in many ways her least successful scene. She struggles to contain her frustration with Zuko's behavior.

Still, overall Azula displays an impressive record, and shows very strong compassionate empathy skills. However, it's only toward the people she's close to, as she has no reason to display them toward enemies.

#Azula #Azula meta #Zuko #Ty Lee

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seelestia · 1 year

Note

If you really want to write something for me (crab 🦀) then how about some Kaveh fluff because he is way to relatable right now, especially in my current situation (doesn’t have to be though, I didn’t expect you to want to write something for me so get a bit creative with it lol) 🦀 🦀 🦀

— 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲 & 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲.

SUMMARY. when you offer a friend a suggestion on how to increase his efficiency, you don't expect your intimacy for him would also increase alongside it. (he doesn't expect it too.) (1.5k+ words)

CHARACTERS. kaveh + GN!reader.

GENRE. fluff, angst with comfort, friends to ??? (when ur friend starts looking a lil too good for some reason...).

CW. references to kaveh's backstory, implications of crying and stress (kaveh our beloved <//3), reader wears reading glasses (cool stuff) and rambles abt naps.

THOUGHTS. ik all kaveh simps and kinnies want to give him a hug, so here you go! i cherish him vv much. to 🦀 anon, let's just treat this as like your commissioning me in a way (i hope this ficlet is alright?? i'm rusty hhhhh) ♡

✰ masterlist.

"Ughhhhhh."

So, the rumors amongst the people of the Akademiya are true, after all; that there can never be a silence that lasts too long when a certain man with blond hair is present.

"Gahhhhhh."

For someone who is still at the prime of his life, KAVEH sure looks like he has already aged a hundred years in the span of a single night. But according to the people at the Akademiya, this occurrence is nothing out of the ordinary and as someone who has known him for years, you can absolutely concur with them.

With a hand on his temple and a heavy sigh that weighs a thousand troubles, there is no other way for the blond male to express his frustration besides verbal means — and to that, too, you are a witness sitting across from him on the table.

Guess that's just the price you have to pay for agreeing to help him when he begged you yesterday. According to him, your "job description" is just to stop him from dozing off because a deadline from a client of his is nearing way too quickly for his liking.

Thus, here you are — watching him do his work while you do your own work on a table at his place (or more precisely, his room in Alhaitham's place but you don't want Kaveh to fly into a fit of rage).

"My head hurts," Kaveh groans.

"Because you've stared at that blueprint for hours now," you answer.

"My back hurts too," he complains again.

"Because you haven't changed your position ever since we started sitting," you retort again.

If anyone were to ask for some sort of proof about the frequency of Kaveh's grumbles, the fact that you could respond so naturally and quickly while barely taking your gaze off the documents spread out in front of you, as if you've done this so many times before (which you have), would have sufficed.

"[Y/N]," Kaveh calls your name in a dramatic whine, "You're supposed to sympathize with me...!" But you don't find the need to look up from your paper when you can almost feel the pout forming on his lips already.

It isn't as if you don't want to empathize with him, but that sight of his pout happens to be quite adorable — does it count as being mean if you want him to keep it on for a bit longer? Ha, what a strange feeling.

"Then, why don't you take a nap?" you give him a suggestion as you look up to spare your colleague a glance, "I'll wake you up in about 20 minutes or so."

That look of hesitance on Kaveh's face makes you raise an eyebrow. "Sounds tempting, but are you sure doing that wouldn't waste more time instead of saving it?" the man tilts his head questioningly with a frown as if he is unsure of the right answer himself.

"Idiot," you blurt out.

Thank goodness the circumference of the table isn't wide enough to interrupt your movements as you put down your reading glasses and reach out to pull on Kaveh's cheek gently. He, as the one on the receiving end, doesn't think the gesture is as gentle as it looks though.

"Hey! Ouch, ouch—" Kaveh cries out a little yelp that is a perfect representation of his surprise. "Let me ask you this," you release his cheek from your grasp and he expresses gratitude to the Dendro Archon like never before while you continue, "Why do you think you've been staring at that blueprint without being able to function properly?"

"Uh, umm," he stammers, "...Because I feel tired, maybe?" Again, he sounds unsure of himself but that is most likely because you've shaken off half of his brain cells by pinching his cheek just now. Fortunately, judging by that satisfied expression on your face, he seems to have gotten it right.

"Good," you nod approvingly, "Naps have been proven to provide relaxation, reduce fatigue, and increase alertness. The most optimal time for adults is between 10 to 20 minutes."

Kaveh listens to you intently, but that dumbfounded look he has on almost says otherwise. Noticing this, you decide to feign an aura of seriousness as you add, "I was being generous when I offered to wake you up after 20 minutes, by the way. I could've set it to 10 minutes instead."

"You're ruthless," he gapes.

"So, are you going to take a nap or not?" you stifle a giggle.

"Seems like that's the best option I have right now," your dear friend can only shrug his shoulders defeatedly. In order to prepare for his nap, Kaveh sets aside the blueprint he has previously spent hours working on and neatly folds his arms on top of the table.

"Sleeping on a desk isn't very comfy but it'll do," he heaves out an exhausted sigh. Not even one second into placing his head atop his folded arms, he is already missing the softness of his bed back at home — but he can't really complain, so he closes his eyes in silence despite the slight discomfort.

You observe, picking up the disgruntled noises Kaveh makes as he shifts around to find the right position to lay his head. This quiet moment where your banters with him finally die down is when you can truly see the burdens weighing upon his shoulders and your gaze can't help but soften.

Despite how empathetic he appears or how his dramatic antics always elicit a laugh out of others, you know Kaveh really has been through a lot — and you wonder if you didn't suggest he take a nap, would he have neglected his health to do more in a state of low efficiency? Does he often allow himself some time to rest like this?

"You're really tired, aren't you?" your voice lowers into a soft murmur.

"...Yeah," his answer comes out quieter than your question.

"Deadlines are killing me. I know it's meant to help me be organized and all," you see how he opens his eyes to glance at the blueprint mere inches away from his face, "But right now, it's putting more pressure on me than anything."

Kaveh exhales another drained sigh, "And I still have my debts to worry about too. God, when will this all end..." His voice eventually trails off into an evident crack like he is about to choke, "So many things at once, I feel like it's all crashing on me..."

Your heart clenches. He's about to cry, you note.

"Hey," you speak tenderly. "Don't frown so hard, it'll make your head hurt more," you extend your hand to rub soothingly at the deepening frown on his forehead with your thumb. "Oh, s-sorry," his lips try their best not to tremble when he lets that apology slip, but you're not here to scold him.

"Even if it all comes crashing down on you, you'll be able to push them all off eventually, right? One at a time," you say as you rub a few more circles on his forehead to soothe his headache. You're not certain on how he'd receive your words, so you purse your lips with a tinge of reluctance, "Even now, you're still working on it, aren't you? Don't beat yourself up for not reaching your goal when you're still in the process. That's not fair to yourself."

There is a moment of silence before you hear a series of sniffles. "Curses..." he mumbles with a pathetic chuckle, "Look at me, putting this all on you when I'm supposed to be taking a nap." Just as you're about to shake your head in denial, Kaveh's eyes flicker to meet yours — and you're momentarily stunned by how they look.

Mesmerizing irises in the color of red stare back at you; they're glassy as if a single touch would make them ripple and a dam of tears will burst from it, yet filled with unspoken gratefulness.

"And... thanks for saying that," he smiles, "It's been a while since people actually took my problems seriously, s-so um, shoot—" Darn it, his tongue just has to mess up at the worst timing! Kaveh picks himself back up with a small cough, "Uh, anyway, what I was about to say is that it means a lot to me... So, thank you."

He peers at you worriedly after finishing his words, concerned that you'll laugh at him instead. But rather than a laugh, he is met with the softest smile and Kaveh swears— he swears that his heart has never thumped this hard before. Never ever.

"I'm glad," you say and suddenly, he feels oddly exposed underneath your gaze. He has always been more used to your sterner yet caring side; so, this gentleness of yours is sending inexplicable warmth rushing through his veins.

Oh no.

How is he supposed to sleep now?

Then, comes the sensation of something in his hair and Kaveh winces before registering the fact that it's actually your fingers that are combing through his hair. The shock easily fades into relaxation and he lets out a sigh of contentment, "That feels nice."

"Should I stop?" you ask.

"N-no," his hand grabs onto your wrist almost desperately as if keeping it in place. "Keep going... please," Kaveh utters the last word so meekly you almost mistake it for a whisper.

You smile to yourself.

"Sleep well, Kav."

Perhaps, you uttered those words with more love and newfound affection for him than you realize.

And maybe he, too, realizes the same.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @hcikazu @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @daisydkj @omgscaramouche @coquettemaiden @lemontum @herdrops @lleoll @xiaosonlybeloved @chiisananingen @irethepotato @ainescribe @blooodyvampy @starlightaura @jihyuniepark @duhsies @maybemiko @lordbugs @sakkaku-squared @lupicalbestwolf — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged because of url changes or visibility settings + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]

#genshin x reader #kaveh x reader #genshin x you #kaveh x you #genshin fluff #kaveh fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #seelestial.inks

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thissying · 7 months

Text

Christian Horner about Max in Formule1 magazine, October 2023 issue You've worked with several top drivers. How does Verstappen compare to the 'greats' in your opinion? As a team we've had a great and successful period with Sebastian, an exceptionally good driver. Of course there have been more extraordinary drivers. Since I saw guys like Ayrton Senna when I was a little boy, I haven't seen anyone like Max. Michael Schumacher did similar things at the time, but what Max is showing is truly phenomenal. Did you recognise his talent from day one, like adviser Helmut Marko? Max continues to amaze us. He's only 25 years old, but by now a veteran. He uses that experience, it gives him an advantage. He uses his head more, but he's still got that pure speed and skills that he had when he came here as a 16 year old boy. He's merged all those elements in a brilliant way. Besides that he's just a nice guy and fantastic to work with. Fame and fortune hasn't changed him at all: he's the same Max Verstappen. He's just a more adult version of himself.

A leader within Red Bull Racing. Absolutely. Everyone looks at him, he's the leader in the garage, in the team. Because of how he drives, because of the results he gets. Everyone walks just a bit faster for him, goes just a bit farther. Because everyone knows there's usually a reward in the end. In that way, he's a great motivation for everyone. No, verbally he's not loud or exaggeratedly present in the garage. I mean: he's not giving a speech every five minutes or something. But when he says something, people listen. Max is just one of the guys, everyone appreciates that he isn't a diva. The British and the Dutch share a good sense of humour; there's a lot of laughter in the garage. Because you have to enjoy your work. And Max does, he fits perfectly in the team. Does that make working with him easier?Max is one of the most straightforward drivers I've worked with. No bullshit, or anything. You know where you stand with him. He's a professional, comes in and does his job. He gives a hundred percent and expects the same from others. […] What specific things does you appreciate in Max Verstappen as a person? With his family and Raymond (Vermeulen, his manager) he's got a close-knit group of people around him. And the team as well, I think. I think he feels safe and at ease in that environment. He's the same boy he was when he joined us. Whether it's at our home for a barbecue or at Silverstone: he always enjoys playing with the kids. Max is genuinely a really nice guy for whom family is the most important thing, too. Demanding, difficult to work with? Totally not, Max is actually very predictable. You know exactly what you've get with him. Max doesn't do politics, just does what he says. And he expects the same from the people he works with. He's direct and clear, that's how he was raised. He's always on time. I've worked with drivers who kept to their own time-table… Not Max, he knows why he's here and he always delivers craftsmanship. Do you often have discussions with him? To be honest, no. And if there is a point of discussion we talk openly about it. I don't believe in the conflict model. If there's something you need to get off your chest or have an issue, you sit down together, talk about it and try to resolve it. Is your relationship with Verstappen different from his with Marko? Helmut is a bit like Max's grandfather, the older wiser man. Their relationship is bit more personal, I'd say. They get on well, are both straightforward. Max is just less traditional in his thinking. Helmut is Red Bull's adviser, responsible for the talent program and obviously very proud of Max's achievements. My relationship with him is a bit more operational in nature: how the whole team functions, how Max functions with in the team.

#idk you guys. i think he likes him #🥰#f1 #christian horner #max verstappen #a 'read more' yes or no? idk

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foone · 1 year

Text

"so how old are you?"

"147!"

"wait... Didn't you say you once spent 200 years studying at the crystal university?"

"I did! Mostly over two semesters. Time loops are very handy when you're a student."

"so you're not counting timeloops? So what, 147 is just how long it's been in linear time since you were born, and you're really much much older?"

"oh no, I wasn't born. You can do that kind of thing and be a chronomancer, that's a real liability. You could easily undo your birth and now you've created an uncontrolled paradox. So I got rid of it real early on. No, I don't know how old I'd be if you counted all the time I experienced, counting time loops and time spent in other times and timelines. Hell, some of the stuff I've done, I haven't! I went back and changed my own timeline. Does that count? It's a decent philosophical question, and one above my pay grade."

"so why did you say 147 then?"

"it's my favorite number! Always has been. Did I ever tell you of how I won the Atallus Lottery three months in a row with 147 as my pick?"

"no, but... Wait. Chronomancers are banned from playing the lottery, aren't they?"

They smile mischievously. "yeah, they are Now. Ever wonder why the Union has that law?"

"huh. So I guess if you weren't born, you don't celebrate your birthday?"

"nope! There's no point. Instead I (like most chronomancers) celebrate my death day."

"death... day? You know when you die?!"

"dear, I'm a chronomancer. Of course I know when I did. Remind me to invite you along to the next party, it's a lot of fun."

"when is it?"

"The second of fall! Though we all meet up on the actual day, rather than celebrate it separately every year."

"so it's just a big party of different versions of you, in the future, all wearing party hats and eating cake?"

"pretty much! And all their guests, of course. Oh, I have to introduce you to Goramund! He's a riot, I can't wait to meet him in my current timeline. Lizardmen have the best sense of humor"

You blink, slowly. "master, lizardmen are mortal enemies of The Union. Do you switch sides in the future?"

"oh, no! They're mortal enemies now. They won't be in about... 80 years? I forget when we sign the peace treaty, exactly. Anyway, Goramund won't be hatched for another hundred years or so, and by then The Union and The Empire will have significantly warmed up to each other. You know that blacksmith's shop down by the Colosseum? By the time Goramund is born it'll be replaced by a lizardman restaurant. You'll have to try their cricket quiche, it's one of the tastiest things I ever will have eaten!"

"sure. I'll pencil it into my calendar. A hundred years from today?"

"about, yeah. I may be off by a decade or two."

#My writing #Chronomancers #101 magical pistols

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sparrowrye · 5 days

Text

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 2

Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?

Previous part

Part 2: constricting deals

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come on Mrs. Dragon Demon, you really think I don't have cameras everywhere?" Vox remarked from his chair. We were in his dressing room, where there were no visible cameras, and I sat on the other only comfortable chair in the room. We were both exhibiting relaxed, nonchalant behavior. Vox was leaning his screen on his hand while the other tapped or gestured every so often.

I was leaning back in the chair, legs crossed elegantly, and hands folded comfortably in my lap. "You haven't noticed anything strange about trucks going into certain towns or cities?"

I wore the same outfit I always wore when dealing with anything outside the haven. It was the same maroon shirt and gray dress pants I wore when interrogating the women from Blackwater's remaining clan. My Demon attributes were clearly visible, minus my wings, and my face was set in a hard stare.

"Hundreds of trucks go into cities. None of them have Blackwater's symbol on them."

"He--they--wouldn't be that obvious," I reminded.

"Then what do you want me to do?" He turned both palms to the sky in annoyance.

I let out a sigh, showing my own annoyance. "I want you to watch all the trucks that come into major cities and park in suspicious areas and alleys."

"You must have a lot of faith in my abilities." His annoyance turned to smugness, his sharp blue teeth making their appearance. "But I cannot focus my attention on over a hundred cities and towns."

"Just cities. The clan is small so they'll go to places with the most buyers. And you have plenty of souls to do that work for you."

"And why exactly would I do this?" he raised a single eyebrow in question, "This doesn't fall under the terms of our deal."

"Everyone wants to claim victory over Blackwater. You would share that victory with me."

"Now that you've told me how to do it, why would I need to share it with you?"

I abruptly stood up at that. "Need I remind you who actually killed him?" His smile fell. "I don't actually need your help. It would make things easier but I am in no need of your assistance. If you do not wish to be known as one of the Overlords who rid the surface of the last traces of Blackwater, then this conversation is over."

I turned, tail smoothly flicking behind me, and walked to the door. I had grabbed the door handle when he asked, "You consider yourself an Overlord, now?"

There was a pause. "I do. What of it?" I looked over my shoulder, not yet fully facing him.

"I figured you would keep the title open for Alastor's return." He paused. "He has returned, hasn't he? It's been seven years."

"It's been eight, actually." I finally faced him and slid my hands into my pockets. "And no, he hasn't. I will not stand by and wait for him to return. I have more important things to take care of in his absence."

Vox stood from his chair and crossed the room. He put his hands behind his back like Alastor, one of the many traits he purposefully picked up, and said with a smile, "He hasn't even left a note for you?"

"This conversation is about Blackwater, not Alastor," I hissed, baring my teeth, "Will you assist me or will you hide away in your station to let me do all the hard work?"

Again, his smile fell. "I'll let you know if I find anything suspicious." His sarcastic, bothered tone was bothering me.

I nodded and opened the door. Before disappearing down the hall I said, "Give Valentino my regards," and flipped him off.

****

I finished the cold glass of water and placed it quietly in the sink. A vision about Adam being in Nym and Thatcher's room had interrupted a dream. I had immediately checked their room but they were both sound asleep in their own beds. Adam was nowhere in sight.

I noticed my hand shaking as I put the cup in the sink. I gripped the edges of the counter and leaned over, forcefully taking deep breaths to calm myself. It had been awhile since I last shook like this, since I last felt such a strong sense of fear. One day he was going to intervene again and he was going to use Nym and Thatcher. Since I moved them into the house to join the family, I had been very careful to keep them separated from my life outside the haven.

The vision hadn't shown them dying, only him keeping them really close as a threat. That meant I still had the chance to keep them safe when he did come. Why was he going to intervene again? Was I on Heaven's radar now? Had I become as much of a problem as Alastor had? What exactly did they not like about my actions that warranted an intervention? Was it because I was half Angel? Was it because I was successful half Demon?

My questions would remain unanswered.

Finally composing myself, I left the kitchen and stretched out on the couch. Bad nightmares or visions always made it impossible to go back to sleep in my room. I spread out my magic as I drifted into a half sleep, my magic keeping vigil for any unwanted, divine visitors.

The familiar, warm presence of my family surrounded my mind. Their colorful souls lay still as they drifted in their dreams, as did the rest of the haven. The warmth of the sun touched my feet as it tried desperately to squeezed through the curtains. Soon the children would wake up and pull me from a restless sleep.

Yet it wasn't them who woke me up.

Alastor's hallucination came back. It was the fourth time this week he had appeared. I thought I had gotten over his disappearance but the anniversary of it two days ago seemed to send me back twelve steps. My emotions were all over the place and my irritation with Blackwater's legacy was ever growing.

I looked over my shoulder at the hallucination to acknowledge it, which was the first step in dealing with them, then turned back to press my face into the couch.

"I'm back, my love."

My ears pinned back against my head. It had been years since one of his hallucinations spoke. The first two years of it had been torturous for me, sending me up and down and back and forth. It took help from Lucifer to learn how to manage them. Eventually they turned into speechless hallucinations until they no longer plagued me.

But now they were returning. It was getting bad again.

"Go away," I said. It didn't answer me right away.

"Darling?"

"I said go away. I know you're not real." The second step to the speaking hallucination was to repeatedly remind myself it wasn't actually there. "I know you're not real."

"My love I am very real." Those were the exact words his previous ones had spoken, too.

"I just want to sleep. Go away. You're not real."

"My darling, I am real. I am back. I am home." I heard it shuffle and turned to see his hallucination kneeling beside the couch, hand grabbing my shoulder.

I freaked.

I slapped the hand off my shoulder and launched myself backwards off the couch. "No! This isn't happening again!" I scrambled back into the corner of the room and covered myself with my wings. My claws dug dangerously hard into my scalp as I squeezed my eyes shut.

The last time a hallucination had gotten physical, I nearly lost myself to my trapped souls. Had Charlie not come to meet with me about the haven, she wouldn't have gotten her father in time and my own magic and owned souls would have torn me apart.

"You're not real! You're not real! Go away! You can't take me again!" I repeatedly yelled, careful not to be too loud. I didn't want Nym and Thatcher to see me like this. Worst of all, I didn't want them to be unable to see my hallucination. It terrified me when people couldn't see what I could see. It made me feel alone in the struggle, fearful of something that no one could protect me against.

But Lucifer could help. He led me through it last time, he could do it again.

I reached for Reagan's soul and grabbed it. She jerked awake in time to hear my call. Her feet tapped loudly on the wood as she jumped every two stairs. The quick patter of her feet stopped at the entrance of the living room.

"You."

I lowered my wings just enough to see her standing in her night clothes, eyes fixated on Alastor's towering figure near the fireplace.

My wings disappeared as I slowly pushed myself to my knees. My mouth dropped open, my eyes jumped from him to her, and my heart drummed in my ears. She could see him. She could see him.

"You can see him?" I asked quietly. Reagan's eyes were sympathetic at my question.

"My dear, I am real. I am home. This isn't—"

"Get away from her!" Reagan snapped, jumping between me and him. His eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"How long has it been?" he asked carefully, voice restrained and full of radio static.

"Eight fucking years."

There was a pause. "Do not speak to me in such a way." He took a step forward but Reagan didn't move. Once upon a time, she was barely past his hip height and hardly spent five seconds in the same room as him. Now, she stood at his shoulder level going toe to toe with him.

"Then don't treat my mother in such a way," she shot back.

"Mother?" Alastor's eyes fell on my huddled form. He attempted to move past her again but she stepped in his way. He slammed his cane on the floor loudly. "This is a matter between the two of us. Kindly step aside."

"Your disappearance did so much damage that it's become a matter between all of us." She gestured widely, referring to everyone I knew.

As if on cue, Husker walked in the front door. His eyes instantly fell on his old master and his fur stood straight up. "You're back?" he hissed, "Where have you been?"

Alastor was visibly frustrated. "I wish to have a conversation with her alone."

Everyone turned their eyes on me. I had fallen back in the corner with my claws digging into my scalp, whispering to myself that it was just a dream. I would wake up soon. It was just a nightmare.

Time to wake up.

"Look what you've done to her!" Regan pointed a finger at my pathetic, huddled form. "This involves all of us, especially me and Husker, because we're the ones who had to deal with how it affected her."

Deal with?

I glanced at Husker but he wasn't looking at me. Had I been difficult to be around? Everyone kept telling me to rely on them, to talk to them, to not keep everything bottled up. It had become annoying to me that they kept asking so I eventually obliged. Had that been the wrong decision? Had they regretted telling me to open up?

I watched something in Alastor's eyes and demeanor change. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. He said, "This is the last time I ask. Step aside so I can speak with her alone."

Reagan touched her shoulder blades together and lifted her chin defiantly.

"No."

Alastor's shadow slipped from his feet to grab her legs. I launched from the corner as Alcine snatched his shadow away. I morphed into a form halfway between my Demon and Dragon form, claws firmly on either side of Reagan and mouth open in a slimy snarl over her shoulder.

"Do not touch her," I snapped near his face. He stumbled back into the mantle, causing the frame of his mother's picture to shatter on the floor. Something red snapped in my mind, in his mind, a moment before both of us were engulfed in shadows.

I wrestled with his magic and managed to pull myself out and splash into the ocean. I casted myself onto the beach as he manifested. His black tentacles sprouted from his back to grab at my limbs. I changed into my Dragon form and closed my jaws around the tentacles. Several more grabbed at my arms and feet but I casted water to slice them off.

I spun around with my tail outstretched. He disappeared a breath's moment before it contacted his body. My tail slammed painfully into the sharp rocks.

Stop! Stop fighting! Calm down!

My own thoughts had no control over my actions. The most I could do was pull my punches but it wasn't a great amount. I was so angry. It was blinding. It was satisfying. It was dangerous.

He was dangerous.

His presence striked down on my mind and physically slammed my head into the sand with it. I followed his magic and attempted to do the same to him. His mind abruptly closed shut before I could, slingshotting me back into my own body.

He attempted to deprive me of oxygen but that was easy to deflect, forcefully opening my throat and sucking the air in. I felt him manifest behind me and kicked up sand in his face. I heard him yell as his grip on my mind loosened.

I wrenched my head off the ground and lunged for him. My body unwillingly changed into my Demon form before I could reach him. Tentacles grabbed my body and pulled me so hard into the ground that it knocked the wind out of me.

Alastor's magic grabbed my mind more forcefully, enveloping it in his magic and squeezing my veins painfully tight. I contorted in the sand, mouth agape in a silent scream, as he moved to stand beside me.

My anger changed to fury. I pushed against his mind as my body pushed against his tentacles. I attempted magic again but he shut that down instantaneously. My face dug roughly into the sand as I tried to physically wiggle out of the extra limbs to no avail.

Tears streamed down my face at the helplessness, at the hurt, at the rage I was feeling towards someone I cared so much about. I hadn't even realized until he was gone how much I actually cared about him. Our relationship had progressed so far but was stripped away when he disappeared. Struggling in the sand, it felt like we had gone back to when I was first trapped in the house.

"Darling, please hear what I have to say," he tried gently.

"You left me!" I screamed. I dug my heels into the sand further until my claws were separating to a painful degree.

"It was not intentional."

"You did it anyway!" I pressed my chest off the beach, slowly pushing myself to all fours. "Why the hell did you leave me?" The tears wouldn't stop. I looked so pathetic trapped by his magic, sobbing, and screaming. My breathing came in horrible gasped whines.

"If you will calm yourself enough to have a conversation, I can explain myself."

"I have every right to be angry." I managed to lift my head enough to glare up at his red, towering form. His claw was clinging to his microphone, the other arm behind his back. I attempted magic again, this time reaching for his soul. Something sharp and vile grabbed at my own soul in response. My strength was ripped from my grip and I fell back into the sand.

"Do not attempt that again," he commanded.

"I'll do whatever I want." I coughed on inhaled sand. "It's what I've been doing since you left eight years ago."

He let out an irritated sigh. "You are being difficult. I am attempting to be civil so we can properly reunite."

His tentacles were bruising me. "Properly? You didn't properly leave!"

I was pulled up to my knees and he roughly grabbed my chin so we would meet eyes. "This is as painful for me as it is for you. You deserve the right to an explanation. That is what I am attempting to give you."

I jerked my chain out of his grip and stared down at the black appendages. My ears were pinned back and my throat squeezed from another onslaught of tears. I had so much anger still left in me.

He knelt down so we were eye level and held out a red claw. "I have missed you so much, my dear. Please allow me to explain what happened, to explain why I couldn't return sooner."

"Couldn't or wouldn't?" I grumbled, glancing once at his red eyes.

"Couldn't."

I looked at him again. His smile was close-lipped and as small as I had ever seen him able to do. The tears clouded my vision so I dropped my head further, my hair a curtain between both our faces. My anger was dissipating and slowly being replaced with overwhelming sadness.

He withdrew his magic from my mind and his tentacles from my body. I slumped backwards on my tail before repositioning on my heels. I folded my arms in my lap and kept my face downcasted. I had to force my breathing in a steady pattern.

I heard him let out a sigh as he stood up. "I dealt my soul to someone long ago." He came to kneel in front of me again, black clothed knee coming into view. He tried to touch my hand but I pulled it away. He didn't press. "They called upon me and I could not ignore it."

I took a deep breath before asking, "Why didn't you leave a note?"

"It was sudden. I was called and trapped within...something."

"What do you mean?" I lifted my head just enough to see the collar flaps of his coat.

"It was...dark. There was nothing and no one else around me. I suppose you could call it a type of limbo."

I was inclined to believe him. For all eight years I had no way of reaching him in Hell or on the surface. "You couldn't leave?"

"Not until my dealer permitted me so," the answer sounded angry and strained.

"Why did they...do that to you?"

"They wouldn't explain."

That one felt like a lie.

I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, feeling the invisible bruises from our fight. Was this real or would I wake up tomorrow to an empty bed and broken soulbond?

"You were the only thing on my mind," he went on, "I wanted to do nothing more than to return to you. I knew you were suffering on my behalf but I wasn't aware how badly."

"I don't believe you're actually here."

"I am here, my love." He dared a gentle claw on my chin and lifted my eyes to meet his own. "I am real. I am here in front of you. I am home. I will not leave you alone again. That was not fair to you."

I pulled my face away as tears fell down my cheeks. He softly cupped my face with both claws and pulled my head up again. I grabbed his wrists and tried to pull free from his grip.

"Please do not fight me, love."

"You were gone for so long." My voice wavered. "I had to...had to pick myself up and piece it back together again."

"That must've been hard." He drew my face in closer, touching our foreheads despite my attempts to keep away.

"I had to protect the haven. I had to take care of everyone. I had to take care of myself. All on my own."

"You did well."

"I had to live every day like I didn't love you."

"Love me?"

I stopped resisting. My eyes widened, jumping up to see his surprise.

I wrenched my face free from his hands and hopped away. He grabbed my tail and held it long enough to wrap an arm around my waist. My hands closed around his wrists but he was impossibly stronger than me, arms fully encasing me in a tight embrace.

He held my back firmly against his chest as his face rubbed against my red cheek. I dropped my weight but, as expected, it did nothing. His one arm was over my shoulder and holding onto the other while his second arm stayed hooked on my hip. My claws gripped his arms dangerously tight.

"Do you mean that?" I felt his smile against my neck.

"Mean what?" I muttered with a sniffle.

"That you love me."

"I did until you left me." I pushed back into him but all it did was make him take a step back to catch himself.

He placed a kiss on my cheek and it brought me to a screeching halt. "I am sorry I caused you such pain. It was not of my own choosing and I was suffering just the same."

He drew me into his mind just enough to see the vast emptiness. I could only see his red claws and coat. There was no sound, no light, no soul, nothing. It felt cold.

I blinked back to the beach. He unwrapped his arms and I turned around to face him. His smile had no teeth and his eyes looked concerned. I couldn't hear his thoughts but I could feel the ghost traces of something painful.

He placed his hands on my shoulders. "I have missed you so much." He drew one hand up to run the back of his knuckles along my cheek, just like he used to do. "May I kiss you?"

I almost laughed. Blunt and forthcoming. That was the way of Alastor.

My nod was so small I worried he didn't see it. A second later, though, he leaned down to press his warm lips into mine. His claws hooked on that sweet spot behind my jaw and under my ear, pulling me further into the kiss. A jolt of excitement coursed through my body.

It felt foreign yet familiar. Warmth radiated off him as if it were sun stroking my cheek. His hair brushed against my forehead and his lips moved ever slightly against mine.

He pulled away too soon and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. Something unraveled in me.

I dropped my head as I choked on a sob. He put a hand on the back of my head as the other drew me in from behind. I fisted the back of his coat, face pressing firmly into his chest. I could barely smell his sweet, smokey wood scent through my clogged nose.

My whole body shook with every sob. The tears were releasing every possible emotion and feeling I had stored away so deeply for so long. The anger, the sadness, the confusion, the relief, all of it. It hurt my head and turned everything white when I coughed on my own spit.

"You will make yourself sick, darling." He pulled me away just enough to look down at my wet face. He used magic to dampen the overwhelming feelings, drying my face, unclogging my nose, and easing the headache.

"I've been through worse," I gurgled.

"You won't have to face anything alone, anymore." He kissed my forehead again.

I sniffed on nothing. "I wasn't done crying, you know."

"I know." He pulled me in for another hug. This time I drew in long, deep breaths of his scent. I heard him do the same on the top of my head. "But I need you to calm a raging teenager before she reaches us."

I looked over my shoulder to see Reagan sprinting up the beach. I didn't realize how far we had gone from the house. I could see it sitting on the cliffside but the haven wasn't visible from here. We were on the uninhabited side.

"She's not a teenager anymore. She's twenty-one now." I saw Husker flapping from the land side.

"Good thing Humans don't live long."

I pulled out of his embrace and crossed my arms. "I have half the mind to let her rip you apart on my behalf."

"That would not be ideal," he remarked gently.

I smiled despite myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Ta daaaaa

I wrote this scene like four different times before I settled on this version

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open #hazbin husk

61 notes · View notes

all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 1 month

Text

Baby It's You (Teen!John Lennon x Teen!Female!Reader)

A/N: Hello! Yes, I'm alive, and yes, I know I haven't posted anything original on this blog in over 3 years, but that's gonna change!

Thank you all for sticking around so long, my life did a 180 about a month or so ago and now I can get back to one of the things I love doing most: giving you all some juicy fanfiction to enjoy!

I've had an influx of enthusiastic followers and readers on my last oneshot ask for more writing, and I will be delivering! I have upcoming Paul and George oneshots underway; but first, I think it's time we show John a little love!

P.S. we'll probably consider this an AU fic since John went to private school, and he is going to school with the reader in this one. Sorry for the lack of authenticity in advance!

Summary: Your friend, John, invites you to the first Fair of the year with the intentions of evolving some spontaneous behaviour within you. You find just the thing there to prove to John just how daring and fun you could be-- and then things go sideways.

WARNINGS: This has been sitting in my notes FOREVER so I wouldn't be surprised if there were typos.

Also, there is a heteronormative behaviour in this fic because of the time it was set in, but I want to disclaim that LOVE IS LOVE and I, in no way, support heteronormative/ anti LGBTQ+ behaviour. Love who you want to love; just be happy doing so<3

Also Also, she is a LONG one like the other oneshot, so I advise you read this when you've got some time on your hands!

Swearing is almost a certainty at this point, but no really mature themes, so a T rating is probably enough for this one.

It was a hot Friday afternoon, at the very end of the school year; and there were hundreds of telltale signs:

The teacher was well over his curriculum and he sat at his desk reading a book in silence, student-made work was no longer strewn about on the walls, the classroom was humid even with everyone fanning themselves and each other; and the students...

You could tell the students were just dying to get home for the summer.

There were five minutes left on the clock, and you sat at your desk packing your things away. You spent the last hour doodling, but you wanted to be ready to take off as soon as the bell sounded.

As you zipped your bag up, you saw a little flash of white in your peripheral, and when you glanced back at the surface of your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper-- a note!

You looked around briefly, but no one indicated to you where to pass it, so it had to have been for you.

And if the note was for you, then there was only one person it could have been from.

You unraveled the little piece of paper, revealing the question the paper possessed.

"Fair? Tonight? -yours truly"

That evening in particular, the local fair was going to erect itself in the biggest park in town, and everyone at school was going to be there. What better way to blow off steam at the end of a long year of hard work?

You shook your head at his pathetic complimentary close, your eyes rolling to the back of your head so far they almost didn't come back.

The bell rang, and before you could even consider doing anything else with the note, everyone took off out the door, as did you, knowing fully well "yours truly" was going to be waiting for you at your locker.

As you rounded the corner to the hallway your locker was in, you finally caught glimpse of him. He was leaning against it with his arms crossed, one leg over the other as his eyes wandered the other students for your face; and when your eyes locked, his expressionless mouth couldn't help but tighten upwards.

Perhaps his smile was out of kindness, but it was most likely because he was a jokester, and quite frankly couldn't get enough of teasing you.

And now his target was spotted.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first. "You know how much I hate how you sign these off, right?"

You presented the note in hand adjacent to your head as your face displayed a disapproving cringe, cheeks pink in mild humiliation.

"John, I only ever get notes written from you, so the flowery signoff is unnecessary," you put the note down, pointing at him with a frown.

"That note-passing was so open! You know if the teacher ever caught something like that, he'd make me read it out loud to the class, surely you know I'd die on the spot, and then my ghost will haunt you until you died too!"

His smile only grew wider at your words, almost as if he'd been betting with himself what your response to all of this was going to be.

"Also, you're not even in my last class," you rambled on, "so how you managed to have it smuggled in beats me."

"Oh, come on, y/n, you know you'd love all the attention you'd get out of something like that," he gestured to the paper, and you shook your head before crumpling it into a ball in your hand and tossing it at his head, to which it bounced off, and then was immediately trampled on as other students hurried down the hallway.

The both of you weren't strangers; you frequented playdates with John as children, and then you went to school together, so you basically watched each other grow up. John, for as long as you'd known him, usually displayed confident and sometimes mischievous behaviour towards others that typically you'd find unappealing for a man to display.

"People thinking I'm with you? That is not the kind of attention I'm after."

Not that you ever found John appealing, in any way. He was your buddy; you tolerated his behaviour. That being said, over the years he started lightening up on the harsher jokes with you, opting for more of a platonic flirt more than anything else, finding it was a less harmless way to poke fun at you.

"And the Fair, John? Really?"

The boy shrugged his hands up to defend his suggestion. "What's so bad about the Fair?!"

You rolled your combination into your locker, and he shifted out of the way so you could get into it better once you got it unlocked.

"Nothing's wrong with going to the Fair. Going to the Fair with you on the other hand..." you tisked at him before reaching into your locker to retrieve what binders and books you had left in there. John never used his locker, so he was just waiting on you.

You tossed your bag up over your shoulder once you shoved your books inside, and before John could interject with an if, and, or but, you put your hand up to silence him.

"You left me lost in that fun house--"

"But that was literally ten ago, y/n!"

"Doesn't mean I'm over it!"

You took the lead towards the exit doors, and John followed suit, searching for the right words to convince you to go with him.

"If you go with me tonight, I'll try to win you a stuffed animal,"

"We're doing bribery now, are we?" You smirked, reaching out for the doors and pushing through until both you and John were outside, standing under the sun. It was nice for once for the sun to have been out from behind the clouds.

"Look, you're just always hanging out with your girlies, and I've got my mates, but they're all going to the fair with other people tonight," John started as you both headed to the sidewalk and began to make your way to your place.

"We never really do spontaneous things anymore, just you and I. And, I don't know, growing up a little might have had something to do with it... but it doesn't mean I'm not still your friend, though. I wanna do things with you."

You took John's words into consideration. One thing you really liked about John was that he was passionate, and poetic. You'd seen this reflected in some of his writing before, and he often discussed with you how much he liked music, and how he dreamed that his poems could very well one day soon become songs...

Now, it's not like he spoke the way he wrote, but his thoughts translated to words so quickly and effortlessly, and he, as a speaker, really made you think twice about what he said because he sounded so sure when he spoke.

"... I suppose we have been distant in terms of having fun. I know I won't be able to win an argument with you that studying every other night together is considered 'fun', even though I think otherwise."

You and John both rounded left down the next street, which happened to be where you lived; the benefits of living a block away from school. Your house was coming up, meaning this conversation had to end soon.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous. Just say yes and come with me tonight."

At this point, you and John had slowed to a stop and were standing at the end of the driveway, facing one another as you pondered whether tonight was going to be spent inside reading and listening to music, or stimulated by exciting noises and lights while you stuffed your face with Carnival delicacies and treats.

"... If I say yes, will I still get my stuffed animal?" You already knew the response as the smile returned to John's face.

You and John made it to the Fair for 6:30, and it was already full of life; children on the rides screaming their heads off, friends competing in mini games like Ring Toss and Balloon Darts, and the smell of popcorn and candy floss swirled through the air.

As you looked around at all of the rides available, you barely noticed John going out of his way to buy tickets for both you and him for the night. When he returned to you, he tried to see if you were looking at a particular ride. "Anything catching your eye?"

"I feel like they have different stuff this year. Like, that one must be new," you pointed to a group a different rides that you'd never seen before. "Let's look around, and if anything looks interesting enough, I say we go for it."

John bought you enough tickets for you both to ride everything anyways, but you two had all night, and nowhere to be the next day, so you agreed to start at one end of the fair, and work your way through it.

The first ride that caught the attention of either one of yous were the Tea Cups.

"Remember the one time I threw up on you on that ride?" You asked John with a little smile, to which he replied without a beat,

"And then I threw up on you and caused a chain reaction with all of the other kids on the ride?"

You both laughed and cringed at the rather unpleasant memory before John kindly took your elbow and pulled you towards the ride gently, knowing full well that your matured stomachs would be able to handle it now, and your moving feet indicated you weren't objecting the idea of getting on.

"We gotta start the fun somewhere, Love. After you," John presented four tickets to the ride operator, and you chose your favourite colour cup to climb into.

"If you just don't spin the cup, we'll make it out of here safe," you warned John with a joking wagging finger, and he saluted to you respectfully as he closed the hatch to the cup and took a seat next to you.

"Don't worry, we won't meet the same fate as last," he grabbed the wheel at the centre of the cup as if to indicate he was going to steady it the whole time, and you were excited to see how well he'd do; and even more excited to make fun of him when he did a bad job.

The ride shot to life, and as the cups began dancing around in different patterns, you watched in amusement as John tried his very hardest to keep the cup from spinning; his attention sometimes turning to you, and he watched as your hair whipped around your smiling face as the ride threw the both of you around.

Your beating heart was building up adrenaline as the ride spun on. You suddenly threw your hands overtop of John's, and his eyes shot up to you, hands going slack on the wheel, and you took that moment to whip the cup around as hard as you could, the world becoming a blur around you, and your energy within escaping in a bound of squeals and giggles.

John couldn't help but join in, your laughter was contagious, and the excitement he felt seeing you having fun made his heart ache a little, but in a good way.

The ride was over much sooner than the either of you would have liked, the both of you combing your fingers through your hair to appear more presentable as your tea cup came to a complete stop. John opened the door for you, and you both continued on on wobbly legs to see what else the Fair had to offer.

After a few carnival games and slow, paced rides, you finally grab John by the wrist after he suggests doing something you'd rather do later so he didn't take off too far.

"I think we should do the Ferris Wheel, John," You dropped his wrist and pointed to the ride in the distance behind him, his eyes following your gaze to it.

"Come along, then," it was now his turn to grab your wrist, and lead you along.

That was one unspoken rule you had with John: he never held your hand. You weren't sure why, and you didn't really care-- you didn't want to hold his hand. You just always settled on the idea John was really committed to the joke about not wanting to get Cooties; and honestly, you respected his devotion to the joke.

Your wait in line to ride the Ferris Wheel was a short one, and your chest filled with excitement yet again as you and John took your seats and the ride operator strapped you in.

As the ride filled with other people, you and John slowly made your way to the very top of the ride, allowing yourselves to take in the view of the Fair that seemed to stretch forever.

"We really should have done this first so we could have seen everything all at once," you said, peering down at some of the unrecognizable stands and rides surrounding you both. One in particular caught your eye, and it was in the shape of a space ship from those cartoons depicting the future.

"We definitely have to check that one out," you pointed to it, and John nodded his head in agreement.

"It seems to be right by the games and food. We'll grab some candy while we're in the area."

"And...?"

"And I'll win you that prize, yeah yeah yeah, I know what I promised."

The Ferris Wheel then took off, and you and John savoured the ride, watching the sun slowly fall towards the horizon, the most beautiful colours painted across the sky.

"I'm glad you convince me to come with you, Johnny. I'm having loads of fun. Thank you," you didn't shout, just loud enough that John could hear, and he smiled at you.

"Like I said, if anyone needs to be more spontaneous, it's you. If I can fix that in any way, I'll take the chance," you smiled back at his words, turning your full attention back to the sky as the ride began to slow, knowing this moment, like everything else, was going to come to an end.

You and John were on a mission to get over to the space ship, passing by a bunch of other rides and games you pointed to and indicated aloud along the way that they were on your To-Do list that evening.

As you approached what you two initially thought was a ride, you discovered that the rocket was actually just a still building. There were two lines entering the ship, and there were a few people in each line.

One of the Fair Staff was walking by, and John stopped him before he went too far. "Hey, what's this one all about?"

"Cosmic Hearts is a matchmaking activity we just added! You're matched with someone of your preference in the other line anonymously, and you both enter the rocket. You spend two minutes in the dark together, and then you leave together when the doors open, revealing who you've matched with. You can also think of it as a two-way Kissing Booth."

The staff member looked at the both of you before adding on slowly, "established couples usually don't use that one..."

"Oh, you must be mistaken, we're not--" John couldn't even correct the guy before he was walking away again. You looked from John, back to the metal space ship. The guys standing in line weren't bad looking at all.

"... I wouldn't mind spending two minutes in the dark with any of them," you thought aloud, noticing that each person in line had at least one unique physical attractive quality.

"Yeah, well I'd be worried they'd be touchy with you. In the dark and all," John huffed, shaking his head at the picture he painted himself, and you bursted out laughing.

"What, so you're my chaperone now? Going in there is knowing full well you're going to have hands all over you. Maybe I want to be squeezed up a little, Johnny, is there any harm in that?"

"I mean," John's face flushed a rosy pink before shutting his eyes and shaking his head again, as if that was going to stop his imagination from doing what an imagination does.

"That's.. not something I want to picture."

"Well look, you don't have to anymore," you took John's arm and pulled him towards one of the game stalls close by. "But you do have to try to win me that stuffed bear. We all know that's what I came for in the first place."

The distraction you set up was a good one. The game you brought John to was pretty much just Balloon Darts but forest- themed. You watched as John tried his very best to aim his darts, but he just couldn't quite seem to make the mark for that bear.

The fifth round came and went, and John was still slapping more tickets down. You knew it didn't help that John was legally blind and flat-out refused to wear his glasses, but you weren't about to start an argument with him over that.

After John used up the rest of his darts from that round, he looked over at you with frustration and he sighed. "Look, I might just need a quick break," John took the tickets from inside his pocket, and placed them in your hand.

"I'm running to the loo, it's just on the other side of the park, just hang out here, play a round... or four... and see if you're a better shot than me,"

"I'm always a better shot than you, Lenny," you called to him as he disappeared in the crowd, waving back to you as if to acknowledge your cocky response.

You went to turn back to the game, but something stopped you. You took a quick glance over your shoulder, and eyed the lineup at the rocket ship. You couldn't believe how good looking the people in the lineup were, you could only imagine what the mystery people in the second line looked like.

And then John's words from earlier became apparent in your head, statement ringing in your ears.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous."

You furrowed your brow as you thought about this decision you were about to make. The closest lineup to you wasn't long at all, and before you knew it, your feet were pretty much walking themselves up to the line.

There was a girl about your age doing the matching for your line, and she met your gaze after letting the next person in. She grinned, and approached you.

"Hello! Welcome to Cosmic Hearts, do you know how we work?"

"Sort of... I just don't know how the matches are made."

"Oh, it's no worries, we do that all for you! We only really take the girl's request for preference types, and then we match accordingly from the other line. Is there something in particular you want about your match? Looks? Behaviour?"

You raised an interested eyebrow, skeptical about how accurate your preferences would be in terms of the match.

That being said, it was just an elaborate kissing booth, it's not like you were using the stall to find the love of your life-- no, you were looking to prove to John that you could be daring, that you weren't as boring as he maybe thought.

"Look, girl-to-girl here, I trust your judgement in choosing me a good-looking guy..." your voice tapered off for a moment before you added, " I just might want someone who doesn't seem too overconfident."

The Match Girl smiled wide, and gestured toward the door to the spaceship with her hand, pushing it open to let you in. You were the next girl in line, and the boys in the lineup watched as you took a deep breath and moved in.

As you walked toward the threshold of the dark room, Match Girl filled you in on the instructions.

"The other side of the curtain will be your 'contact area', only walk through when you hear the other door close; that'll mean he's inside as well. You'll have two minutes alone together, at which point we will open the central door and let you both out"

Your heart began to quicken. It didn't really occur to you until now that you were about to make out with a complete stranger in the dark, and leave that spaceship hand-in-hand just to prove to John wrong about you lacking in as much fun as he thought.

But this impulsive plan of yours also excited you a lot.

Maybe by the end of the night, you'd be leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You took your final step into the rocket, and your heart pounded against your ribcage as it all went dark.

After about thirty seconds of silence, you heard some shuffling from the other side of the curtain, and then a simple, "your two minutes start now," from the staff.

Your heart was beating so loud, you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. Your remaining senses enhanced, provided your lack of vision, and you followed the wall to the right with your hand, past the curtain, and you could feel an immediate change in temperature in the room.

You were much warmer now, hyper-aware of the fact that you were sharing body-heat with whoever the staff matched you with. You had to relay it in your head a few times what this actually meant for you. It meant that the stranger in this room with you was going to get to know you quite intimately in a pretty short amount of time.

This made you think a moment or two about the other party in this situation: The Stranger. What was his story? Was he dared to jump in line by his buddies to get some action? Maybe his story is that he just wanted to have his first kiss to get it just done and over with, or maybe he, like yourself, was just doing it for the Hell of it.

Whatever the reason, you felt you owed it to them to give them a decent snogging.

Your hand continued to drift along the wall before your thumb bumped into another hand. You gasped quietly, knowing you were close to the stranger, just not exactly sure of where abouts until now.

You lifted your hand off the wall at the same time as him, and as to not lose you, he made sure to reach out and take your hand in his gently, seeming more like an offer than a demand, which you took, admittedly rather nervously, especially when his other hand reached out to grab the other hand at your side.

Something was just so thrilling picturing so many renditions of handsome young men in your head, mixing and matching what he looked like based on what you could feel. His hands were larger than yours, and his fingers were calloused.

He played guitar, or bass, or something, and you knew this because John played, and you remember him telling you once that the strings were really hard on the hands, and you could just tell by looking at his hands that he wasn't joking.

You just thought the feeling was such a contrast against your own hands, which were soft and untouched, and you were sure with the way this guy was running his thumbs over your palms, and the pads of your fingers, he was admiring the contrast as well.

You almost wanted to say something to him about it, but he had you stuck in a trance, especially when he let your hands go for a moment to gently feel up your arms for your shoulders. You tried your best not to be too reactive, but you couldn't help the goosebumps trailing after his touch.

His hands moved up, and you felt his fingertips graze the crooks of your neck and then up under your jaw.

Neither of you spoke, this moment too intimate for the silence to break. You and he breathed so shallow, it was hard to even believe there was someone in the room with you.

But there was, and his fingers traced your jawline slowly, one hand deviating up to cradle the back of your head while the other gently traced around your chin.

Your lips parted, your own hands reaching out for his waist so you had some idea of where he was in front of you. Your fingers found his jacket, and as you tightened your hands around the leather, you felt him move a little closer as his thumb finally found its way to your bottom lip.

You felt his breath on your face, and you held your own, squeezing your eyes shut when you realized they had been wide open the whole time.

And finally, after what seemed like too long, his thumb disappeared and he replaced it with his own lips.

The kiss was soft, and not pushy at all, but you were tense like a rock under his touch from how nervous you actually were, and you just kept still.

He pulled away for a moment, and you could feel your face burning. That was not the kind of note you were going to leave on. Whoever this was, he had clearly gotten your attention, and you needed to return the favour.

Your one hand moved up his chest, over his collarbone and around his neck to pull him back down towards you. Your lips came together again, and you felt him melt into your embrace after an unsure second, hands dropping down to snake around your waist and pull you flush against him.

You sighed against his mouth, and he pushed his tongue past your lips, all of your past worries melting away. You were in heaven, so drunk on intimacy that you forgot what you were even doing in there in the first place. You tried pulling him even closer by the jacket, to which he responded by slowly backing you against the wall, one of his hands dropping to your hip, and the other returning to the back of your head like before.

Your hand behind his neck slipped up into his hair, and he moaned gently when you tightened your fingers up in the strands and pulled a little.

"Yes, Baby..." the words tumbled from his mouth lowly, and you felt a chill shoot right up your spine; you immediately froze up, lips separating as the realization hit you. You felt like you were going to faint.

"John?!" Your question was short, but clear, and you felt your suspicions were all too correct when you felt all of his muscles tense up as well at the sound of your voice.

"...Y/n?!" His voice cracked, body frozen in place like a statue. As were you, grip still tight in his hair and on his jacket.

You were speechless-- you couldn't believe the one you just spent the last minute and a half or so with-- the one with whom you spent the most intimate experience in your entire life-- was John.

The gentle touching, the embracing of the heavy silence, the patient behaviour, the soft kissing, the respect of your boundaries, and the feeling of wanting more-- it was all John.

This was the first time in your life you had ever experienced John in a situation where he didn't have the words he needed to speak at his disposal.

But to be fair, neither did you. What would anyone do in a situation like this?

It became all the more real for the both of you a moment later when the doors opened up, the lights around the rocket ship lighting John's face for you to see, and your face for him. You both sported embarrassing shades of red on your cheeks, and John's mouth just hung open in perpetual shock as he took in the fact that it was you.

After a second, you both came back down to earth, and your hands came zipping off each other so fast, John scratching his head nervously and giving you space from the wall, and you folding your arms over your chest and gripping your biceps tightly with your fingers.

You couldn't even look John in the eye, nor could he with you, let alone speak. You walked out the door, John at your side. The Match Girl waited by the bottom of the ramp, grinning ear-to-ear. If only she'd known.

"Pretty good-looking, huh?" She nudged to you with a wink, and you could feel your face grow hotter as you glanced over to John. You made brief eye-contact, and you cast your eyes straight to the ground when it happened.

You were thinking things about John you never would have before had it not been for that stupid snog box.

"Yes," was all you could say, nodding for the most part and squeaking out a soft thank you to her before you turned on your heel, and beelined straight for the women's room, rushing out to John that you were running to the loo without looking back at him.

You were too focused on finding some cold water to splash in your face, and a quiet space to figure out what to do in this situation; the lights and sounds had your head just spinning, and it was too difficult to concentrate.

The women's room was quiet enough, and when you felt you'd splashed enough water in your face, you went and sat in one of the stalls for a while to break down the situation that just happened, and what you were going to do to fix it.

John was your friend. There was no way you were going to let something like this drive a wedge between you, especially if you just had to explain yourselves. You had your reasons going in there, as did he.

You were just hoping this could be something you could both look back on in the future and laugh.

You took a few sobering deep breaths before leaving the women's room. You rounded the corner, not quite sure where to begin looking for John, but you found you didn't have to go far when a rather familiar set of fingers took hold of your own as soon as you stopped.

You glanced over your shoulder and there he was. He'd been waiting for you the whole time.

And now he was holding your hand.

That's new.

"... Can we talk?" you spoke simultaneously, and you both smiled a little. John still couldn't seem to hold your gaze for too long without needing to tear his eyes away and resort to looking at his shoes, yet he still held a firm grip on your hand.

You'd never seen him like this before. It was sobering to see him without so much confidence.

"Where did you wanna talk? Nowhere's really private here."

"... Did you just wanna get outta here?" As soon as the words left his mouth, your shoulders lowered in relief. You both definitely had enough excitement for the night, and when you nodded your head sheepishly, John gave your hand a little squeeze, gestured you to come with him with his head, and you both headed for the Fair exit.

Your stroll down the town streets were quiet. Nothing was said between you two for the first little while, your strides were slow, your destination was unknown, and your hands were still clasped together. You took in the night air, for the sun had dropped below the horizon while you were in the spaceship, and the temperatures were lower.

You weren't too sure yet how John felt about all of that night's events so far, and what he thought of you. Clearly, based on the fact that his hand was still in yours, some opinion of his had changed.

Was he comfortable holding your hand now knowing it was you who shared such an intimate moment with him? Or was he maybe wanting to break off this friendship with you all because of tonight, and hand-holding was the only way he could think to comfort you?

At one point, John's fingers unraveled from yours, and you both slowed to a stop. He shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders before you pushed your arms up into the sleeves. John tried looking you in the eye again, and he swallowed nervously, face going red yet again.

"John, we need to talk about what happened."

"I know."

You took his hand this time, and guided him to the curb, sitting down together. Your fingers left his, and you both planted your hands at the curb at your sides.

There was silence for a moment as the memories of what happened back at the Fair resurfaced in your minds, what you were both feeling for each other, physically and emotionally, in your literal moments of blissful ignorance...

"Okay. I'm just going to put this out there right now. John, I had absolutely no idea that they matched me with you, or that you were even in line, for that matter." You sighed before continuing on, feeling the creep of warmth washing over your face yet again.

"I jumped in line impulsively when you left because I figured if you came back and you saw me leaving the rocket with a guy, I could prove to you tonight that I can be just as spontaneous and daring and fun as you."

You could see the gears turning in John's head when you finished saying your part, and after a second of putting the pieces together, his eyes widened, and then this wide smile spread right across his face, and, to your utter relief, he started laughing.

And it sounded so different compared to all of the other times he laughed around you. You couldn't quite place exactly what was different this time, but you found it to be more melodic than usual; more genuine. It was like music to your ears.

"I uh, I jumped in line for kind of the same reason." You raised a confused eyebrow, so John elaborated a little more, smile faltering a little as he cleared things up.

"Let me explain; If you saw me leaving the rocket with a girl, I was hoping I could convince you to do something tonight a little out of your comfort zone, like I did with that."

There was your Pièce De Résistance: John's reason for being in there all along was to teach you to live a little. And you were simply in there to live.

"Not that I wanted to see you specifically go through with the spaceship and getting felt up the wrong way, per se, but I just..."

John's words trailed off, and you could tell he was struggling to find words again. So, he decided to take this conversation in another direction.

"Okay, look, y/n, I don't want you to be under the impression that I think you're no fun. It's just not true. I adore you. There's just something about seeing you at the peak of excitement that makes me feel warm inside, like a child. I see this in moments you doubt yourself, but you still take that chance and you come out successful in the end, shining with confidence. I wanted to see you tonight with that same glow. And I would have if I hadn't have made fun in the first place that you were such a bore, so I'm sorry."

John dropped his head down after he finished speaking, and you looked at him for a moment, blinking once before reaching out to rub his back.

"Johnny, there is nothing to be sorry about." He turned his gaze to look at you, and you took some long pauses between your sentences. John was patient, eyes watching your face, and hanging onto every word you said.

"Of all the people I could have ended up with in that rocket tonight, I don't think you have any idea just how grateful I am that it was you in there with me, and not some stranger."

You didn't think you could keep it inside forever just what you thought about John's kissing, but you didn't think you'd give up fifteen minutes after the situation, either.

"John, I've kissed boys before, that's no secret between us; but what is is that I've never kissed a boy the way I kissed you tonight, and the attention you were giving back to me, I thought I nearly fell for you in there, and I had no clue it was even you," you laughed a little, the words feeling funny in your mouth, especially when they were for John's ears, only. Those words elicited red faces from the both of you.

"... I never thought I'd ever be nervous looking you in the eye, but to be quite honest, all that comes to mind when I see your face right now is the bubbling of excitement in my chest, and the feel of my legs going wobbly. God, John, would I be crazy to say I want you to kiss me like that all over again?"

You figured if you didn't throw the opportunity out there, you just might lose the chance to experience what you felt again, even if it meant just one last time in your life. But when John remained silent for longer than you hoped, your confidence began to falter. Perhaps John wasn't so comfortable with you anymore.

"... Would I be crazy?" You asked again, this time just above a whisper. John was the kind of person you expected to laugh something like this off. Perhaps he'd tease you for a moment, but ultimately tell you it was no big deal before gently rejecting you.

Instead, his silence indicated something much different. His eyes darted to your lips for a moment, a hand reaching up to hold the back of your head gently as he glanced up into your eyes.

"Love, if you think you're crazy for thinking that, then what I'm thinking must make me completely mad."

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, and John decided not to waste any more time in reconnecting your lips.

At first it was a little strange, his mouth on yours, but it wasn't in any way unpleasant. You found yourself, before long, snaking your arms around John's shoulders as you pulled him ever closer, your chests now flush as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You hummed at the contact, but John had to pull away soon after to catch a breath, but he kept your chests flush so he could feel your heartbeat.

The contrast of kissing him knowing full well who he was still didn't change the respect in his movements, and the gentleness of his kisses.

When your eyes met again, you couldn't help but smile nervously at him, biting down on your lip as you noticed his cheeks glowed pink.

"Wow," you sighed.

"I'll say," he responded, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as the pad of his thumb drew invisible patterns from your cheekbone down your jaw.

That's when your smile began to fall slowly, and John noticed this as he was going to dive in for another kiss.

"What's the matter, Love?"

"... I think I like this too much. I think I like you too much," you said bluntly. The more you and John indulged in what you both physically wanted, the more you realized what you were putting on the line.

"... And is that a problem?" John asked you gently, and you raised your eyebrow, pulling away a little more from the embrace.

"It's a problem because this puts our friendship at risk, John. Every time our lips touch, the harder it is to look at you platonically."

"Then don't look at me platonically anymore," His suggestion was so effortless as you felt his other hand reach up to play with your hair.

"... I never expected tonight to go the way it did. But y/n, the more I think about a situation where it was anyone but me in that rocket with you, the more jealous I'm becoming... The more grateful I am that it was me, too."

John took another moment to bask in the silence before clearing his throat, and looking you right in the eyes.

"My eyes are wider than they've ever been before, and my mind is so clear. Why don't we try dating?" He suggested after a moment of deciding whether to ask in the first place.

"Dating?!" You paused. "John, if anything were to happen to what we have..."

"I know you're scared, y/n. So am I. But... I also believe this can be the beginning of something really great."

John let the hand in your hair drop to his shoulder where one of your hands rested. He gave your fingers a squeeze before he raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

"We already kind of go on dates, and now that kissing and hand holding is on the list of things we're comfortable with, we might as well just put a label on it."

John paused for a moment. "It's not like we have to scream it from the rooftops unless you wanted to. But... after tonight, it would be a treat to be able to walk around with my arm 'round your waist and proudly announce to the world that you're mine."

That comment of his made you bite back a toothy grin, but your red face really emphasized how his words made you feel. You were expecting a teasing jab from John, but, surprisingly, nothing came. Just hopeful eyes awaiting your response.

"If you're so confident we'll flourish romantically... then I'm with you, Johnny. We'll give it a go. But under one condition!"

John looked at you expectantly.

"You win me that damned stuffed animal tomorrow night, Lenny."

Now it was John's turn to grin, his arms curling around your body and pulling you into a warm embrace as he mumbled "deal" into your ear.

You were once again surrounded by leather, the crisp night air, the single dim beam of light from the streetlamp, and the faintest scent of whatever John's body wash was.

But most of all, you we're surrounded by young love.

You finally supposed that by the end of the night, you did end up leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You just had no clue you could kill two birds with one stone the way you had.

---------------------------------------

A/A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I've had it in the works for LITERALLY four years now, and I am just SO glad it can be out in the world now.

PERMENANT TAG LIST

@culturefiendtrashqueen

@cowgorls

(Pls message if you want to be added/removed from my permanent/oneshot/chapter fic tag lists!)

#the beatles #john lennon #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison #george harrison x reader #ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #x reader #fem reader

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warderfromtheborder · 5 months

Text

Destiny: the year of Very Well Structured Things In Sets of 2

Defiance+Wish: The Sovs Mara and Crow, the Eliksni Misraaks and Eramis, and the Regular Ass Humans Devrim and Petra(PV counts as a regular-ass human she isn't a figure of prophecy or royalty in the reef she's a cop who's been promoted too much out of necessity)

Deep+Witch: The Truncated Heros Sloane and Eris, the Osmium OGs Xivu and Savathun, the Concerned Boss-Parents Zavala and Ikora, and the Wriggly Enablers Ahsa and Drifter (okay you got me) I mean the Nonhuman Guides Ahsa and Immaru

Lightfall: Osiris with no Sagira and Nimbus with no Rohan and Caiatl with no Recognizable Dad and the Witness with no Disciples and Chioma with no Maya and the Vex with no Chill the Living People of Neomuna with no Meatspace to live in. (The dreaming city curse will never end and the people on Neptune will never get to leave the matrix Im sorry but that's the way it is)

The story and themes for this year of Destiny are SO GOOD the writers have done SUCH A GOOD JOB. If making a tighter relationship between the expansion narrative and the seasonal narratives was one of the goals this year they fucking knocked it out of the park, I can't put any of these arcs into its own box because they have been knit together so sturdily. It's all one great narrative, one Very Big narrative, they haven't done it like this before!

(And Im so mad people couldnt stop shitting on Lightfall they are stoping themselves from seeing how good the WHOLE NARRATIVE IS they are probably gonna say come march/near TFS launch "uhh yeah the seasons were good i guees but maybe they shoulda worked harder on Lightfall I mean who even likes Nimbus" and for their Ignorance and Haterism I am sentencing them to reading part two of The Two Towers while they get attacked by Paper-Tube Ninjas and a broadcast system shouts at them 'YOU CANNOT HAVE THE VICTORIES IN RETURN OF THE KING IF FRODO AND SAM DIDNT KEEP WALKING ALL THE WAY TO MORDOR' for 100 hundred years.) (The link there is I didn't get the Point of that part of Two Towers when I first read it and assumed the whole would have been better without it. Obviously...I was wrong, and so are these clowns who think Lightfall has a bad story)

The name of the game this year is Resolution, Catharsis, Armistice, Acceptance. The structuring is so simple and so elegant and so well executed, the 2s, the 3s, the mirroring and the inverting and the unfathomable gloriousness of the victories personal and community and galaxy wide. There is no way to overstate the bitterness of Amanda's death, the relief of exhalation when Sloane retreats, the VINDICATION of Eris's vengeance.

You remember when Zavala 'discovered' Crow's former identity? How that was the crowning on-screen narrative jewel in destiny up to that point? What I am saying is EVERY ARC THIS YEAR IS AS GOOD OR BETTER THAN THAT BEAT AND DESERVES AS MUCH RECOGNITION FOR THE ARTISTIC ACHIEVEMENT OF SO MANY COMPLEMENTARY COMBOS PACKED INTO ONE EXPANSION STORY.

If Shadowkeep was the first sign of symptoms, if Beyond Light was trying to irradiate the disease, if Witch Queen was a tug of war with scar tissue, then Lightfall is the world after recovery and making peace with what will Never Be The Same, and the home and family that has been changed forever but is still Your Home and Your Family. We don't stop fighting but we also don't stop loving and growing and caring.

One last thing for my fellow Sjur copium addicts out there: Sloane's retreat was mirrored and inverted by Eris's victory, so for the complementary-ness of the story to continue, Amanda's death and Crow's subsequent emotional anguish over losing the person he fought with but who also saw him for who he really is will need to be mirrored and inverted by SOMEONE who Mara fought with but who also saw her for who she really is and I expect you will agree this is SCIENTIFICALLY ACCURATE reasoning that Sjur's comin back home.

#destiny 2 #season of the wish #obviously yeah Im calling the shot that Wish is gonna be very good narratively but im confidant on that given the track record now #and Im also confidant coupling it to Defiance like this. can't think of a good reason why it shouldn't be like this.#little russian nesting doll of a story about angy traumatized warriors resolutely taking care of each other #sjur's coming back! I wont belive she's not until TFS actually launches and she hasnt shown up yet.#sjur eido

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hellcheeriest · 1 month

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i bet he's never had a backstreet guy

Twitch Streamer!Eddie x Single dad!Steve

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Summary: Introductory Chapter where we meet Steve and his son Dustin, and Eddie and his group of friends.

Content Warnings: Slight age gap (Steve is 31, Eddie is 26), bullying.

A/N: I wrote this almost two years ago and the full first chapter ended up being almost ten thousand words... and then i never finished writing the second chapter. Here's a heavily re written first chapter! I'm splitting this up much more, and this chapter is shorter than the rest will be as its mostly an intro chapter to introduce characters and their dynamics :)

w/c: 2,017

January, 2023

STEVE HARRINGTON

“Fuck, dude!” A voice blared from Dustin’s phone. The kitchen was warmly lit as Steve flipped a pancake. It was a Monday morning, and the sun’s light peaked through the crack between the curtains. The smell of bacon cooling on the counter wafted through the air, and Steve turned to give his son a disapproving glare.

“Hey, what’s with the language?” Steve asked, turning over hashbrowns in a separate, smaller pan.

“Sorry, dad. Just a streamer I’m watching.” Dustin replied as he took a sip of his orange juice. “He and his friends are like, super funny.” Steve stalked over, a full plate of breakfast in his hands. He placed it on the counter in front of Dustin, leaning over Dustin’s shoulder to view the gameplay shown on the screen. They were playing a game he vaguely recognized as something Dustin had shown him while saving up his allowance money.

A different voice sounded from the phone. A lighter one, belonging to someone who the first person referred to as ‘Chrissy.’

“Who are they?” Steve asked as he returned to the stove. Dustin took a bite of his pancakes.

“The guy is Eddie. He’s the one playing the game.” Dustin began, pausing only when his dad scolded him for talking with his mouth full. “The girl is Chrissy.”

Steve smiled as his son ranted. Dustin was typically very passionate about his interests, and Steve loved seeing his son so happy. It was too often that Dustin came home from school deflated and downright miserable. He was nerdy, and the type of kid that was bullied even back when Steve was in school. Apparently times haven't changed.

“You really like these guys, huh?” Steve asked, thoughtful, as he turned off the burners and brought the now empty pans to the sink.

“Yeah!” Dustin began, practically bouncing in his seat. “Their friend group is all super cool, and Eddie-” He took a moment when the man- Eddie, cracked a joke that made Chrissy laugh. “Eddie used to be bullied, too. And he’s super cool, so…” Steve sent his son a small, sad smile. He walked over to Dustin, and pulled him into a hug. “He just makes me feel better.”

“Well,” Steve ran a hand through Dustin’s curly hair. “I’m glad he makes you feel better. As long as you don’t get a swearing problem, got it?” He asked, smirking.

Dustin broke into a smile, nodding.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dustin gulped down the rest of his orange juice. “I'm finished eating, can we get going? I don't want to be late for school!”

_____________________

EDDIE MUNSON

Eddie @hellfyre

streaming among us with friends :)

@bluefille

@rockinrobin

@jefftheekiller

@gareththatsme

@grrant

twitch.tv/hellfyre

_____________________

Chris @bluefille

Can’t wait! :)

Rob @rockinrobin

im here against my will.

_____________________

Eddie’s room was dark, the light of his monitors casting a shadow behind him. He sighed and slid down in his chair. He was deafend in the discord call with most of his friends and he loaded up the game, his cursor hovering over the ‘Go Live’ button. He ran a hand through his slightly unkempt hair, thankful for the fact he hasn’t shown his face yet. He wasn't even sure he owned a camera minus the one built into his monitors. Taking a deep breath, Eddie presses the button and lets his ‘Stream starting soon’ screen play out.

Quickly the viewer count rose from a few hundred to a couple thousand, and after five minutes Eddie unmuted his microphone.

“Hey chat!” He grinned at the spamming of emotes in the chat. “Today, as you know, we’re doing among us with corroded coffin and friends. Robin and Chrissy, my personal favourites, but don’t tell the guys that.” He laughed. “Jeff and Gareth just got back from vacation so hopefully they suck, and Austin has yet to join us.”

Eddie pulled up a picture of his guitar and shrank it down to cover where the room code would go.

“Among us in 2023?” He read from the chat. “You know it.”

Eddie undeafened in discord, the loud voices of his friends instantly shot through his headphones.

“Gareth, you prick!” Robin shouted down her microphone. “Take that back you heathen.”

“God, Robin. Mind telling me what the hell is going on?” Eddie asked.

“Gareth’s flaunting his relationship with Jeff! Practically rubbing it in my face! He’s basically making fun of how I don’t have a girlfriend.” Robin whined and Gareth laughed.

“Can we please just start the game? I don’t want to deal with this debate anymore!” Jeff pleaded.

“You’re just asking that because you get all flustered whenever Gareth gushes about you.” Chrissy added, her voice soft as ever.

“Yeah, Jeff, we get it. You’re in a happy relationship and you hold hands and blah blah blah.” Eddie joked, putting on a New Yorker accent.

“Hey, leave my mans alone.” Gareth said and Jeff groaned, causing everyone else to laugh. “I’m making the room.”

“Sorry guys, my mom just called. I gotta go.” Robin said, her raspy voice wavering as she tried not to laugh, giving her away.

“Fuck you Robin.” Gareth retorted and Robin cackled. “I’m posting the code in the discord, assholes.

“I’m too sober for this.” Austin said, finally deciding to speak up after joining to the pandemonium.

_____________________

It had been an hour and a half straight of playing among us, and Eddie was starting to get a headache. His throat was sore from the accent he chose to do in the last round they played.

“Well, guys. I still have to eat dinner so I should get going.” Eddie confessed, rubbing his eyes.

“Okay, Eddie! Enjoy your dinner.” Chrissy yawned. It was eight PM for the both of them, and Chrissy’s childhood habit of going to bed on time carried over to adulthood and it was her wind down time by now

“Night man.” Gareth said, and wishes of a good rest from Jeff, Robin and Austin followed. Eddie returned the gesture and hung up. He bid farewell to his viewers before shutting down his stream and turning off his computer. He stretched, before standing up and leaving his small bedroom and heading to the small kitchenette of his apartment. He grabbed one of the TV dinners that sat in his freezer and threw it in the microwave for a few minutes.

He walked to his bathroom and grabbed an elastic off of the counter, wrapping it around his hair before leaning over the sink and splashing water over his warm face. After rubbing a towel down his face, he leaned on the counter and stared into the mirror, taking in his appearance.

He wouldn't say he was insecure of his looks, but it was a daunting thing to think about when his side of the internet were constantly talking about how devastatingly hot he must be.

What if they didn't like how he looked?

That was a thought that rarely crossed his mind. He prided himself on the fact that he didn't care what others thought, and really, after years of bullying he'd grown a tough shell. So no, he wouldn't care about what others thought. He only thought like this when he was drunk or tired, and he wasn't drunk. The dark purple of his under eyes confirmed it was the latter.

They stood out against the pale skin of his face, similar to how the black of his self-cropped Metallica shirt he'd gotten at a concert and dark tattoos that ran all down his torso clashed with his almost fragile looking flesh.

Thank you iron deficiency. And college.

He'd just skimmed by and managed to graduate on his third attempt at senior year, so he wasn't sure why he decided to torture himself further by becoming an English major, especially since his streaming career seemed to be kicking off and who knew if he would even end up needing it?

After the beep of the microwave went off, he went back to the microwave and grabbed the plastic dish and went to the reclining arm chair in his small, plain living room. It was always a shock stepping into the modern bright white walls of his apartment after living his whole life in the cluttered comfortability of his uncle's trailer. They didn’t have much then, but he was happy.

Eddie put on an anniversary re-run of some old, popular sit com. The laugh track filled his otherwise quiet apartment and Eddie started chewing on the tough, TV dinner steak.

He’s still happy now, he supposes. A bit bored, maybe. He didn’t see his uncle much anymore, and he lived alone. The only friend he lived close to was Chrissy, and even she lived an hour out of the city Eddie was in. He loved streaming, loved providing content for the people who’d watch it, and he knew it was selfish to wish for more when so many would kill to have what he has.

But sometimes he can’t help it.

_____________________

STEVE HARRINGTON

Steve was worried. He was parked outside of Dustin’s high school. Band ended fifteen minutes ago and there was still no sign of his curly headed son. It wasn’t often Dustin stayed behind this long, not unless he was getting pestered by some moron. After another moment Steve huffed and got out of his car, walking into the school.

It was somewhat nostalgic to walk the halls of the highschool, the same one Steve went to way back when. The walls were a different colour now, and banners hung from wall to wall to announce different events. Steve wasn't here to reminisce, though.

He was a few feet away from Dustin’s locker when he saw two larger teenagers cornering his son into the metal of the lockers, spitting harmful words to Dustin’s already terrified face. The guys seemed to be older, maybe even in their senior year, and Dustin was small, only in the ninth grade.

“Hey!” Steve called out, his pace increasing in speed as the guys turned to look at him. “Hey, what’s going on here?”

“Dude, is that who I think it is?” One of the guys asked. Oh great. Steve thought. Jocks.

Steve wasn’t proud of who he was in highschool. He was a loud, ignorant asshole just like the two here that were harassing his son. The thought made his heart hurt.

“Steve Harrington? What are you doing here?” The other asked, laughing as he held Dustin by the collar of his shirt.

“Well, I’m here to pick up my son, but it seems he’s been held back.” Steve said through gritted teeth, hoping that his visceral hatred spilled through into his tone, and the two older boys' faces paled before they scrambled to get away from the two. Steve scoffed, and was quick to kneel down in front of his son whose face was red and wet with tears. His shirt was soaked, and his nose was bloodied, and Steve’s chest felt heavy with anger.

Calming himself down, Steve held Dustin’s shoulders.

“Hey, bud.” He started softly. “Let’s getcha home, hey?” A small sob broke through Dustin’s lips as he nodded and Steve brought his son in for a hug.

Soon they were outside and walking to the car, Dustin under Steve’s arm.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Steve asked after getting in the car and Dustin shook his head, facing out the window. Steve sighed quietly and looked at his hands where they gripped the steering wheel. “I saw a notification on your phone this afternoon,” This seemed to catch Dustin’s attention. “I think that streamer you like posted something. Maybe you’ll have something to watch when you get home?”

Finally, Dustin smiled. It was small, but Steve was grateful. Dustin nodded.

“I still want to hear about what happened today, kay?” He asked gently, and Dustin nodded again, but slower this time. Steve put a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

After a moment he started the car and drove out of the school parking lot.

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